Rainy forest

I hate the rain, and I love it, but I hate it for so many reasons. It's sad, always bringing tragedies in stories or following a tragic event.

So why, in God's green earth, am I in a never-ending rainy forest? Did someone die of cancer? Oh right, I did just get stabbed by my little sister.That little ****. I should never have destroyed my life for her. I dideverything for her, and she just killed me. I think.

Now I'm in a forest with trees and plants so tall they scrape the heavens.The trunks are dark and gnarled, covered in a patchwork of moss and strange, glowing fungi that emit a faint blue light. Towering ferns with leaves as wide as rooftops sway under the constant drizzle. The air smells damp, earthy, and slightly metallic, as if the rain has been soaking into the soil for centuries. Strange vines hang from the trees like curtains, some with pulsing veins that shimmer faintly in the dim light. Pools of rainwater collect in enormous, bowl-like flowers that could easily hold a grown person. Everything feels alive, like the forest is watching me.

Wait, am I shrunk or something? No, it can't be that-the rain feels normal, but the plants and trees are massive. Which makes me wonder if anything else here is just as oversized. Better not entertain that thought, because if it's true, I'm so, so screwed.

I should get going before I get sick from all this. Maybe I can find food and some shelter, in case I'm here for a while. The forest's terrain isn't exactly easy to navigate. The ground is uneven, with knotted roots that rise like tripwires and depressions filled with muddy water. Every step feels like a fight against nature itself. The constant rain doesn't help, either, turning the ground into a slick, treacherous mess.

(An hour of walking and climbing over enormous plants)

God, when will this rain end? It feels like this storm-or whatever it is-is never going to stop. I'm soaked to the bone, my legs ache, and every breath I take feels heavy. Man, I'm so tired. I'm not used to this much walking, especially in the rain. (Spots a hollow, dry spot in a tree)

Oh great. Of course, it's way up there. Why couldn't it be lower? The hollow looks like it'd be big enough . I'm so cold, hungry, and exhausted... I'll deal with food tomorrow. For now, I'll try climbing. But the bark is slippery, and the tree's ridges are spaced far apart. Each attempt feels like a cruel joke.

(Half an hour later)

Finally. I made it. God, I'm freezing, starving, and now l've got a headache.

Things can't get worse, can they? (Cue ominous foreshadowing) I'm so tired from everything I've been through. My body feels like it's made of lead. Still, I curl up in the hollow, trying to find some semblance of warmth. The faint glow from the fungi on the tree provides just enough light to see by, but it also casts eerie shadows that dance on the walls of the hollow.

(Dream sequence)

"You know I'd do anything for you, May. Don't let anybody tell you otherwise. I'll do everything to make sure you have a future, to make sure you grow up big and strong."

"I don't need you anymore."

"What do you mean? Don't talk like that, May. What... what did you do?"

Her voice echoes, twisting into something unrecognizable. The forest in the dream turns dark, the trees stretching and warping into grotesque shapes. I try to move, but my feet are rooted to the ground. May's laughter rings out, sharp and cruel.

(Wakes up seven hours later, still raining)

God, it wasn't a dream. She really stabbed me. And I'm still in this awful place. If I ever get back, l'm going to punt that 4-foot-9 sh*t into next week.

And whoever she was talking about? I'll lose it if I find out who they are.

After everything I did for her...

...Maybe I should've seen it coming. Maybe it's my fault.

(Looks around)

 the persistent drumming of rain against the hollow tree echoing in his ears. His body ached from the climb, and the damp chill clung to him like a second skin. Peering out from the hollow, he noted the rain had not let up—not that he had expected it to.

He stretched as best as he could in the confined space, groaning as his back protested. "I've been asleep for almost 12 hours," he muttered, wincing as he shifted his weight. "My back is killing me, but at least I stayed dry."

Outside, the rain pooled in the uneven ground below, turning the forest floor into a slick, shimmering expanse. For a brief moment, the relentless storm seemed almost comforting. "Maybe this isn't so bad," he said to himself. "Just me, my freedom, and myself. No food, time, school, money, gangs, or little sh*ts of sisters to worry about. Just me, the rain, shelter, food, and..."

A sound.

Óttarr froze.

The roar came from the distance, a deep, guttural sound that sent shivers down his spine. It wasn't thunder, nor was it the creak of ancient trees bending under the storm's weight. No, this was different. It was alive.

"Did I just hear a large animal?" he whispered to no one. His stomach dropped. The nest, the very spot he had considered a safe haven, suddenly felt a lot less secure.

(Breaks fourth wall)

My name is Óttarr lanus. Yeah, I know. What a name for a person. Even I don't know what it means. My parents were too sh*tty to tell me. Anyway, I'm 5'9" with short, faded blue hair and purple eyes. The rest is up to your imagination.

If you have any suggestions for what this forest or the next chapter should be about, I'm all ears.

i used ChatGPT's for the finer detail like how the tree look and stuff.