The sun rises to come out to play and the warm colors start to contrast and blend with eachother. The trees, paths and bushes, around start to show it's true colors. And the intense weather from eariler in the night becomes less intense, yet still cold. And the sun touches my face.
I sat up feeling a little lightheaded as the sun touches my face where I see a journal on my lap. I look around, my heart's beating and pounding faster. My slightly frost bitten fingers pinch myself on my right wrist to see if this is a dream. The first time I did so, it felt like nothing. Then as I pinch harder, and harder I realize that this isn't a dream. But the real world. My aussmptions, and what I said last night were right. I'm in the forest, in the middle of nowhere, no one to guide me home, and no memory on how i got here.
Just lost and alone.
There's no answer on how, or when I got here. It has felt like amenisa, but only a few parts of it blocked. Not only I want answers, for both my own sake. But as any ordinary 12 year old, I deserve answers. No kid who is curious, (even if it means knowing it the harsh and hard way) shouldn't be questioning constantly. I cough lightly as I start to dust the case off. On the cover itself everything is dusty. Dust particles go with the wind with a swipe of my hand. The journal is a light brown leathered book case with a leathery strap. There's a manget on the strap side and a little magnet on the other to keep it together. My fingers remove the strap as gentle as possible, to reveal on the side of the journal there's black handwriting by. . . . . .anonymous?!
Who in the hell is anonymous?!
I stare at the handwriting, before reading it, I look at it with a slightly not confused but odd and strange look. It's in a fancy cursive writing, and mentions my name a few times. There are two questions that approch my mind when I first saw this note.
1. How do you know my name?
2. Why do I have this journal in the first place?
I decide that now, is the right time to read it maybe the name of the person who wrote this is in there somwhere at least. Which most likely there wouldn't be, as every person who is given something unkown. There isn't going to be a name. It read:
๐ฏ๐ : ๐ฆ๐ถ๐๐๐๐ ๐ฎ๐๐๐๐๐๐,
๐ด๐๐ ๐๐ถ๐ ๐ท๐ ๐๐๐๐น๐๐๐พ๐๐ ๐๐ฝ๐ โ ๐ถ๐, ๐ถ๐๐น ๐ฝ๐๐ โ ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐ถ๐๐. โฌ๐๐ ๐๐ฝ๐ถ๐ ๐พ๐๐'๐ ๐พ๐๐ ๐๐๐๐ถ๐๐ ๐๐พ๐๐ฝ๐ ๐๐๐ โ ๐๐พ๐๐ ๐ถ๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐ฝ๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐พ๐๐๐ ๐๐๐ ๐ฝ๐ถ๐๐ ๐๐พ๐๐ฝ ๐๐ฝ๐พ๐ ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐ถ๐๐๐. โ๐พ๐๐ฝ๐ ๐๐๐, ๐๐ฝ๐ถ๐ ๐พ๐ ๐พ๐๐ ๐๐๐๐ถ๐๐ ๐พ๐ ๐๐ฝ๐ถ๐ ๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐น ๐๐ ๐๐๐ ๐ฝ๐๐๐ ๐ถ๐๐น, ๐พ๐ ๐๐ฝ๐พ๐ ๐ฟ๐๐๐๐๐ถ๐, โ ๐๐พ๐๐ ๐๐๐, ๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐พ๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ฝ๐พ๐๐ ๐๐ฝ๐ถ๐ ๐๐๐ ๐๐ ๐๐ฝ๐๐๐๐๐ฝ ๐พ๐ ๐๐ฝ๐ ๐ฟ๐๐๐๐๐ถ๐. โฑ๐๐๐ ๐๐ฝ๐๐๐๐ฝ๐๐ ๐๐ ๐ป๐๐๐๐พ๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐ ๐๐ฝ๐ ๐๐พ๐๐ ๐๐๐๐ "๐ฝ๐๐ ๐๐๐ ๐น๐ถ๐ ๐ฝ๐ถ๐ ๐ท๐๐๐" ๐พ๐ ๐๐๐๐น๐ ๐๐ ๐ท๐ ๐๐๐พ๐๐๐๐ ๐พ๐ ๐ฝ๐๐๐. ๐๐๐น ๐พ๐ ๐ฝ๐ถ๐ ๐๐ ๐ท๐ ๐๐๐พ๐๐๐๐ ๐พ๐ ๐พ๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐น๐ถ๐ ๐๐๐๐พ๐ ๐พ๐ ๐พ๐ ๐ป๐พ๐๐๐๐น ๐๐ ๐๐ฝ๐ ๐๐ถ๐๐ ๐ ๐ถ๐๐ ๐๐พ๐๐ฝ ๐๐๐๐๐ ๐ถ๐๐น ๐๐๐๐ป๐ป. โฌ๐๐ ๐๐๐ โ ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐, ๐ถ๐ โ ๐น๐๐'๐ ๐ฝ๐ถ๐๐ ๐๐๐ธ๐ฝ ๐๐พ๐๐ ๐๐ ๐๐ถ๐๐. โฑ๐๐๐: ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐
I sigh, and close the book placing it into my bag afterward. Either the person in the note or "anonymous" assumes I'm stupid or it just wants to remind me on what to do. That doesn't matter, I know what to do after waking up in the forest in who knows how late.
"I don't know why this note would tell me this," I said to myself in a whisper. "It's creepy and feels stalky."
As I rise to my feet, my stomach grumbles. I take a look around the two paths I have available to me: forward and backward. They both lead to the same place, which may be any place depending on what paths I decide to take. Either back to where I start, and that is here, or along more paths that I have to choose that lead to the unknown. My eyes draw it's gaze at my stomach where the grumbling becomes louder.
Okay, now I need to start walking. I offically have chose to go what is ahead of me and not to look back. "Looking back is a sin, and it doesn't really help if you look back. It's only making you not trust yourself with god." That's one of the quotes my father would say to me before he would leave me in severeal paths on my own. But this wasn't one of those days, or nights at all. It had happened all of a sudden.
And I don't know why.
I took my bag and put the straps on my shoulders. I made sure that everything is in the bag and I'm not forgetting anything. My brown and red streaked hair swaying with the wind, where my stomach grumbles for food. Ahead of me is the path that I chosen. My fate, my destiny. I start to walk foreward, not looking back at the paths behind me.