Chapter 15

Waking up, Angela could feel the oak beneath her fingers, the grass beneath her feet, the sun upon her face, and the blazing summer heat.

She can smell a storm on the horizon and the moisture in the air. Although she cannot see the clouds, she senses it's there.

She wonders where she is, how she will survive, and look upon her body for tools to stay alive, realizing that she is naked, her skin bare and exposed, alone in the forest; she ponders where are my clothes are and remembers drinking her shots,

She saw the path before her and tread in her bare feet, amid the oaks and redwoods, the branches, sticks, and leaves, hearing the sounds of water; the storm was closing fast as the dark cloud folded into a thick foggy cloth around her towering, trees reach to the sky, as lighting flashed brightening up the dark sky.

Would lightning strike her down like some wrathful god or crush her beneath a fallen tree in a place where a fairy trod? Where are the nymphs, fairies, the will-o-wisp, and fawn? Or have they paved the fantasy, and are all those creatures gone?

Amid the bush and thistle, where wildflowers grow, Angela trekked along the endless woods, uncertain where to go. She had no idea which direction to take; it was like being stuck in a boat in the center of the ocean where no signs of life were visible, no bearing north or south. She felt her stomach rumbling, her cracking, drying mouth.

She only heard rainfall, yet no drop had fallen and felt the rumbling, the calm and shaking ground.

The sun still bares down through the canopy, yet she heard the raging storm as though it was chasing her. "If this is a dream, let me wake up, find I'm back in bed, and that it was just fantasy, a world inside her head," she said to herself.

She tries to use her reasoning, although she still plods on; why would she be in the forest with all her clothing gone? When she saw the light, it was like an angel; as she walked closer to it, she could visibly see her mother's face, who had not passed on too long ago.

"It's all a dream; you will be fine; you are being watched, do not trust anyone" before Angela could let words escape her mouth, the light faded, and her mom was gone.

Why does she hear a storm, yet sunshine on her face? She wonders aloud to her to keep my pace.

She sees a distant clearing, uncertain of what is ahead, still wishing, still hoping, she finds herself in bed.

She comes across an oasis as pleasant as she has ever seen. A waterfall and the grassy knoll, a gently flowing spring, the orchard overflowing, bountiful in the feast, plentiful and ripe, to soothe the savage beast, with nature's harvest presented, how could she forsake when tree and vine, bush inclined more than she could take.

Knowing gluttony is a sin, but the fruit so sweet she could not indulge enough, with all that I could eat, gorging on grapes, devouring dates, figs, apples, apricots, and fruits she could not recognize, but still, she ate.

Soon the crying storm would come in greed. She had to find shelter, but the thunder faded, and never did rain fall entranced, intoxicated the forest no longer threatening, nor bothered by being nude. Delighted by the star-filled night, enhanced light, hearing broken sticks, the movement all around the subtle trembling earth, unaware of its holy ground. Never listened to the click of hooves upon the soft earth and still groggy unaware of the growing joy, the merriment, and celebration. Before her very eyes, creatures she had only read about, she was surprised to see unicorns and fairies delighted in their dance; even trees swayed to the pipes. Fawns and centaurs, merry in their drink, pouring cups to overflowing, rubbing her eyes, she could not think, her doubt ever-growing.

"This can't be real," she wonders aloud, her puzzlement quite evident seeing the full moon overhead, naked, alone in the woods. Then these creatures came amid the rowdy; Angela, the green man, called her name with horns curling up to the sky and skin the hue of moss; the depth inside his eyes put her at a loss. Muscles taught and tone, and solid as an oak, towering over her, thunder when he spoke again he called her name, asked her to come, lay with him in this glen, her body weak and numb. Some force she couldn't explain compelled her limbs to stir; the next thing she knew, she was beside him; all the rest was a blur. Heaving, breathing, groggy mind, body dripping sweat, she awoke in her bed, what happened she forgot. She wished she could fall asleep, so melancholy, sweet, and sound. To find herself back in the forest, naked in the woods.

Weary, she ventured into a day to the job ahead, and as my feet hit, the crisp leaves scattered around her bed. Was it just a dream? The smell of earth and trees, filthy and sweaty, grass-stained sheets, it must have been last night's party in the woods; she then recalled seeing the green man, "Chrissy?" she looked at the other bunk; it was empty. Where had she gone? Maybe she was down in the cafeteria; she stood out of bed stretching her naked body.

Why did everything feel real? She then remembered seeing Sam and Jessica disappearing in the woods; her fingernails had scratches over them as she walked up to the mirror with her naked body, staring down at herself.

Angela got under the shower, and while washing her hair, she saw red dripping onto the floor. Was it blood or mud?

She touched her head when she felt a sharp pain as if her scalp was raw and bruised; she bent over and moved her hair away from the bruise as she placed her index finger on the natural bruise; where had this bruise come from? She walked up to the mirror and turned around; the back of her shoulder had scratch marks as if she had burned slightly.

What had happened? Why can't she remember anything? Maybe Chrissy could remember, putting on her blue torn Jean and black top, she had class in two hours. Sitting down and putting on her sneakers, she had this sudden sharp pain in the back of her head; unlike anything she had previously, this headache was different. Her eyes hurt, then the pain stopped, and she had a backlash of her mother, the dream she had, "be careful not to trust anyone." She had a vision of a sharp seven-inch blade cutting into her wrist.

This person cutting her had a clown mask. She turned her wrist around and saw a tattoo; this tattoo was a tribal tattoo, a cross with wings. "what happened last night?" She asked herself again as she ran her index finger over the tattoo.

It had started to rain as the bashing window distracted her. The curtains blew open as she walked over to the window and looked up at the sky; the dark clouds unveiled a part of her dream where she heard the thundering sounds and saw the lightning, and was no rain.

Without second-guessing, she had closed the window, and in the back of her mind trying to figure out what had happened to aid her in getting a tattoo, she attempted to comb her hair, but it hurt.

Angela put on her three-quarter brown jacket and walked out to the dorm, where there was no one, not a sign of a single student. Who was at the party that night? she heard a crackling sound as the thunder roared in the deep sky. The lights of the passage were on as she strolled down, trying to hear if there were any students around. That's odd. Usually, the lights are off by 7 am.

The passages felt more extended than before, maybe because they were empty; the course walls were whiter than usual.

It was silent; she could hear a pin drop if it were not for the thunder being so loud.

Angela reached the end of the passage, where a narrow staircase was down. When she went to the cafeteria, she was expecting to see Chrissy, but not only was Chrissy not there, there were no teachers and students; this had to be related to the dream she had, or was she still dreaming?

"Hello?" Angela walked over to the fridge, where she took a can of coke; on the left was a staff door; she slowly opened it to peak inside, but there was no one inside.

Has everyone evacuated the building? If they did, the building must be burning down; the windows had burglar bars on; she reached for her phone, but it had no signal; dammit, what was happening? She ran across the hall to the door, which was locked on the outside; this door was never closed. She had to be dreaming. Angela ran to the back of the kitchen, where she had reached the exit onto the back. Usually, that door would be wide open; this time, it was locked, "What is happening?" She started to panic; her phone had no signal the telephone lines were down.