I am lost in the mist, stranded and wandering, unable to see anything before me but my own hands. I stumble through the fog, grateful for the lack of obstacles, and try to hone in on the sound of human voices. But the voices that call to me are muffled and indistinct, as if my ears are stuffed full of cotton.

I am searching.

What I am searching for, I do not know, but I have a deep feeling within myself that it is vitally important. The voices surrounding me and sliding off my skin should be some sort of indication, but they are too quiet to provide me with clues. Sighing, I close my eyes and expel myself from this intangible place, returning to the physical world of humans.

Rain.

The droplets splash me in a way that they never could have if I had remained in the dreamland. I open my eyes to discover that I am in a forest, mid-autumn, judging from the carpet of leaves beneath my feet and the spindly bare branches of the trees on all sides of me. A man-made path cuts through the woods directly ahead, but though I am one, I do not consider myself as having anything to do with humans. I step forward, ignoring the water that soaks my hair and drenches my skin and drips off of my eyelashes in a way reminiscent of tears. I feel every touch of the moist leaves on my soles, and the way that the T-shirt on my body sticks to my skin, but I somehow do not believe that I’m truly here.

Suddenly I drop to my knees and feel the wet squelch against the ripped portion of my jean shorts. Without knowing why, I bend over and begin clawing through the thick leaves, as the torrential downpour above my head continues. If I could feel anything inside, my heart would be pounding like crazy, urging me on. I know this is the place to dig. There is something beneath the leaves before me, something important. Something that I need.

My frantic clearing-away of dead leaves and dirt pays off eventually. I uncover an arm… a shoulder… a breast… a neck. All but the breast are unclothed, slender, and white. The veins stand out against the arm’s wrist, a slow, faint beat of blood the only sign that this creature I’ve come across is alive. The chest gives no rise or fall, covered in the exact same ragged T-shirt that I wear. Finally I clear the leaves away from the head of the human, and find a familiar face- my face, a pale stone face, its eyes closed and dead to the world. Her lips, my lips, are blue from cold. She is not breathing.

I pull her dirtied body towards me and breathe into her, and time does not merely seem to stop- it actually does. I breathe the last from my intangible lungs into my physical ones, and she lights up with a healthy golden glow before falling back naturally, her body relaxing and her chest moving as she struggles to breathe on her own. My lips slowly regain color, and a smile falls across them. At last, I am at peace.

It is some time later, about ten minutes to humans, but feeling like an hour to me, by the time the search-and-rescue party arrives. The policemen call an ambulance, and my umbrella-carrying mother- her umbrella-carrying mother, I mean, for I am parentless- sobs over the lethargic but very much alive body that is mine, patting our shoulder as if in comfort, but really trying to comfort herself. When she stands, I can exhale once more, though I don’t need it. We are alive. I am alive. She is alive. That is all that matters.

I shift my eyes from this moving scene, tilt my head backward, and let the rain dissolve me.