The scent of moss and earth wafted through my nose as I sat up and looked around. I shielded my eyes from the afternoon sun with my hand. The last thing I remembered was running across the road to a passerby for help because.... The shock once again entered my body. My father was dead, not only dead but murdered. I felt too numb to cry. My heart felt heavy, like gravity was trying to rip it out of my chest.
But, what happened after that? Suddenly I remembered a truck coming straight at me. The feeling of every single rib in my body cracking at once. The pain of breathing, the blood pouring out of a wound on my forehead, blurring my fading vision. At the very least I should be in a hospital if not six feet under. But here I was, in the middle of a forest with no discomfort whatsoever in my body except for my heavy heart and hoarse throat.
Ignoring the strangeness of situation, I stood up and started to try to find my way out. Me and dad would often go out into the woods on hikes during the summers. He would tell me that there would always be some kind of human sign if you were to keep going north. 'You can know which direction north is by using a compass, or using the trees. If you don't have a working compass you can use the trees with the knowledge of knowing that moss always grows on the north side of the tree.' I obviously didn't have a compass on me, so that was out of the question. Remembering his words, I walked up to a large oak tree, and circled it until I found the side with moss. I went in that direction, checking trees along the way to make sure I was continuing north.
Eventually, night approached and I decided to camp out in a small clearing. I had nothing except the clothes on my back. Thankfully, I had some useful knowledge in this situation from the times I had lost gotten lost while hiking on my own. Which was a lot of times. But anyways, I knew how to put together a quick shelter, and make fire using rocks and sticks. I started by making a fire to keep me warm and produce light while I was building a shelter. I then cut down some skinny but long branches with a sharpened rock and leaned them against the large rock in the clearing to create my lean-to. I wasn't sure if it would keep out precipitation, but it would block most of the wind. As I was sitting in my make-shift shelter warming myself by the fire, My stomach started to grumble. When hiking, I always had snacks and canned food in my backpack. I knew absolutely nothing about foraging, and had no idea how to catch fish without a fishing pole. I didn't have a weapon to hunt with either, not that I knew how. After about half an hour I gave up on brain storming and went to light a thick stick to use as a torch. I then went out into the forest to search for anything I recongnized as edible. Like strawberries. My mouth watered at the thought of the sweet fruit.
As I was looking, I saw a large bush filled with small blue berries. Could those be blueberries?! I went to get a closer look. Well they're blue and they're berries so probabley. I decided to experiment by picking one off the bush and tossing it into my mouth. My eyes lit up and color filled my cheeks. They were absolutely delicious. Very sweet, with just a little tang. They didn't taste exactly like blueberries, but they were too delicious to be poisonous.
So with that unscientific reasoning she stretched the bottom of her shirt to hold the berries and picked them until they started overflowing. She trudged back the way she came, and started to set the blueberries down on some clean leaves inside her shelter. In the middle of that task was when she started to feel dizzy. Believing she was dehydrated she walked to a stream only about thirty yards from her campsite.
She was about to bend down to cup some water with her hands when her knees gave out and she slumped to the ground. She felt fine a minute ago, what happened? All of a sudden her head started to ache and she broke into a cold sweat. She then lost remaining strength in her body and felt her face hit the cool grass. Then, everything went black.
A young man rowing down the stream pulled his small rowboat to shore when he saw a woman lying at the edge of the stream. Worried, he went over to check on her. Once he reached her he found that she was uncouncious and extremely feverish. Since he wasn't a person who could leave a sick person without help, he carried her and went to find a place to set up camp. Not far, he found what he believed to be her campsite and lied her down into her lean-to instead. He then muttered a chant in an unknown language while placing a hand upon her forehead. Now that he looked at her more closely, he could see that she was wearing strange clothes. Maybe she was a foreigner? Once her fever subsided and he could tell she was well again he started to make his way out of the lean-to. Then, he caught sight of the blue berries. "Ahh. That's what happened." Then he thought, 'What an idiot, even the village children know that Atricia berries are extremely poisonous. But, If she's a foreigner I guess it makes sense.' He wrote a quick note and left it by her. Then he walked to the stream and left in his rowboat. 'She didn't have any equipment, nor a map. Could she perhaps ... be lost?', he thought while scratching the orange hair atop his head.