My eyelids fluttered open, and my surroundings were a blur as I struggled to push myself upright.

“Where am I?”

Slowly, the images around me began to crystallize. I found myself nestled within the heart of a sun-kissed meadow, its perimeter guarded by towering trees, their long branches extending like protective arms around me.

“How on earth did I end up outside?” I pondered aloud, my hand instinctively reaching for my throbbing temple. The moment my palm made contact, I withdrew it, finding my hand along with my white lab coat sleeve marred by a bright bloodstain. Panic surged through me as I summoned all my strength and attempted to stand, as new aches and pains registered with each movement.

Finally, on my feet, I became acutely aware of the sheer size of the trees around me. They dominated the scene, their branches growing upward as if reaching directly into the heavens. As my gaze followed them upward, a thought struck me.

I can use the Maps app on my phone.

With newfound determination, I shoved my hands into my coat pockets, my fingers fumbling desperately. I retrieved a pen and some crumpled sheets of paper—neither would be of help at all in my current predicament.

Where’s my phone?

I frantically looked around, searching for any sign of my lost lifeline.

“This is fine,” I told myself, trying to ease the rising panic that was threatening to consume me.  “I don't need my phone. I am a strong, capable woman. I will figure this out.” 

I closed my eyes and took deep breaths as I started sifting through my memory, hoping to find some small detail about how I got into my current predicament and anything else that might help me navigate my way out of this unfamiliar forest.

But no matter how hard I tried to force my memory to recall, all I could see was a black wall of nothingness. I couldn't even remember what I had had for breakfast. 

A wave of nausea wracked me as my breathing became shallower, and a weight felt as if it had been placed on my chest. I couldn't break down now. 

I closed my eyes again and tried to focus on anything that would ground me and allow me to feel a semblance of control. 

“The sun sets in the West,” I recalled, a tiny ember of relief flickering within me. “If I head in that direction, I’m bound to find my way out and find help.”

Though I knew that there was no logic in that tidbit my mind produced, I had to grasp it, or I would completely spiral. 

As I ventured deeper into the dense forest, the sunlight gradually waned as the thick canopy overhead blocked it, and I was walking in the shadows of the trees. 

I looked forward and backward, and no matter what direction I turned, it all looked the same. I had already lost sight of the open meadow I had woken up in, and there was no sight of the trees coming to an end. 

Just as I was on the brink of resignation, I heard the faint murmur of rushing water nearby. The melody of the unseen river beckoned me, and I forged ahead through the gloomy woods.

Finally emerging from the suffocating embrace of the trees, my eyes widened as I gazed upon the glistening waters of a meandering river.

As I approached it, I noticed that on the opposite shore, large rocks stacked on top of each other led toward a hill concealed by dense trees.

Careful not to fall in, I knelt by the river’s edge and dipped my hands into the cold water, scooping it up and bringing it to my parched lips. I savored the refreshing taste. The coolness momentarily quelled the unease that had been with me since waking up. 

Bending slightly over the river, I took a moment to observe my reflection. I was a complete mess. 

My hair was tangled in several spots, with leaves and strands of grass sticking to the black strands. The right side of my face bore splotches of dried bloodstains along with several shallow cuts.

Oh gods, what happened to me?

The unease I had just quelled began to stir within me again. 

I splashed cold water onto my face and hands, and after a few minutes, I rinsed away the bloodstains and dirt, but my tangled mess of hair proved more stubborn. I reached up and gingerly probed my scalp, searching for the main source of all the blood on my face. I winced when my fingers grazed a small but painful wound about two inches above my right temple. Rummaging through my pockets, I hoped to find something that could serve as a makeshift bandage when my senses suddenly tingled with awareness.

My gaze flicked up, and I spotted two children on the opposite side of the river, kneeling by the water’s edge as they filled two wooden buckets. What struck me the most, however, was their peculiar attire. Their clothing seemed like something from a bygone era. The girl wore a rough brown dress, while the boy was dressed in strangely proportioned pants that only reached his ankles, along with a beige top and vest. 

I could feel the children’s curious gazes roaming over every inch of me as if trying to decipher a puzzle they’d never seen before. 

I didn't care what they thought of my current state. If there were children around, that meant that adults must all be nearby, and they could help me. 

I offered a friendly wave. The children cautiously raised their hands and waved back.

“I think I’m lost,” I yelled across the river. “Do you guys know how to get to town?”

The children did not answer. Instead, they tilted their heads slightly, confusion etched across their faces.

“Can you tell me where we are?” I tried again, but they looked at me in the same bewildered manner.

The children turned to each other and exchanged words that I couldn’t hear across the river. They then grabbed the buckets filled with river water and turned to walk away.

“Wait!” I shouted, causing the children to turn back toward me, fear in their eyes. Determined to catch up with them and get some answers, I quickly assessed the river, gauging whether it was shallow and safe enough to wade through to the other side.

As I stepped into the frigid waters, an icy shock surged through my body, sending shivers racing down my spine. The water gradually rose, reaching my chest and forcing me to swim to keep afloat. I was thankful the current wasn’t strong enough to carry me downstream. I gasped for breath and finally made it across, but the children had vanished.

Completely drenched, I climbed the steep, rocky embankment leading to the hill. At first, I thought I was reaching the edge of another forest, but as I got to the top, I discovered the tree line was less dense than I imagined. 

I walked through the trees and quickly found myself on the other side, overlooking a vast plain.

In the distance, I spotted the tops of rustic homes and other small wooden buildings clustered together in what appeared to be a quaint town. Several fields of crops stretched out to the left of the houses, with small shadows of people moving up and down across the landscape. Halfway between me and the distant town, I saw the tiny silhouettes of the two children. 

Determined to find some answers and accommodations for the night, I carefully descended the hill.

The town had looked way closer from atop the hill. 

The air grew richer as I approached, the unmistakable aroma of bread baking enveloping me. It was an irresistible scent that beckoned me deeper into the heart of the town. With each step, the once-distant wooden constructs of the village came into sharp focus. 

The streets were made of unpaved, densely packed earth. The houses, while modest in size, exuded a rustic charm. Their timbered frames and thatched roofs showcased craftsmanship refined through generations.

The unabating weight of countless eyes upon me as I entered the town limits was disconcerting, and I couldn't help but feel like an actor on a stage, with the entire village as the audience.

A quick scan of the townsfolk revealed a curious sartorial consensus. Their clothing was oddly uniform, made of a textile that appeared neither rough nor entirely smooth. It was worn by all, regardless of age or station. The colors were soothing browns, ochers, and tans as if they were borrowing hues directly from the land they lived on.

The women, draped in simple dresses that swayed gently with their movements, donned aprons bearing the marks of daily toil. Their hair was meticulously arranged, either twirling into neat buns or intricately braided, framing their faces like crowns.

The men, in contrast, sported trousers that ended at their ankles, paired with shirts that mirrored the modesty of the women's attire. Some had adorned themselves with vests, while others bore hats woven from straw. The state of their hair, uniformly trimmed and neatly combed back, lent them an air of disciplined simplicity. The children were no different; they wore scaled-down versions of their adults' attire.

As my gaze drifted across the town streets, the absence of modernity became glaringly evident. There were no cars, no telephone wires dissecting the sky, and no other trace of the technological era I was so familiar with seeing on a daily basis. 

Could this be an Amish community? But even that theory struggled to align with the peculiarity around me.

Gathering my courage and confidence, I raised my voice and addressed the sea of faces before me. "Hello," I began, my words faltering slightly under the weight of countless curious eyes. "I'm lost. Can anyone tell me where I am?" 

Silence. 

A familiar pair of young faces caught my eye amongst the crowd. It was the same children I had seen by the river, now standing shyly by the doorway of a modest timber house. The girl, her eyes glimmering with a hint of recognition, began to raise her hand. But her arm was abruptly pulled down by her brother, drawing intrigued whispers from the onlookers.

Suddenly, the crowd parted, and a man came forward. He stood a head taller than me; a deep scar marred his left eye, giving him an intimidating look. Words spilled out of his mouth rapidly in a language I had never heard before. His voice rose in volume and intensity as he spoke, and his gestures grew more pronounced.

“I’m sorry,” I stammered. I don’t understand. No entiendo.” I hoped that one of the languages would bridge our communication gap. But to my dismay, my words were lost in the sea of unfamiliarity that surrounded me.

The man’s expression darkened further, his anger manifesting in the deep creases on his forehead. Once filled with pure curiosity, the townspeople displayed contorted expressions that oscillated between unease and revulsion. Every step the man took forward felt like a thunderous declaration of intent, his brow casting shadows over fierce eyes as he strode closer to me.

My instincts kicked in, and I raised my arms to my chest, hoping to convey my innocence and peaceful intentions. I took a few steps backward, my eyes never leaving the advancing man. However, he seemed undeterred by my defensive stance and continued his relentless approach. He seized my right arm, his grip tightening as he dragged me toward the town's edge.

“Let go of me!” I shouted, my voice reverberating through the tense air, desperation filling every word as I struggled against his unyielding grip.

“I said let go!” 

In a burst of adrenaline-fueled reflexes, my right hand darted up, fingers finding their target, and I delivered a forceful throat jab. The shock of my counterattack forced the man to release me, and he crumpled to his knees, gasping for air, his aggression momentarily thwarted.

Chest heaving and heartbeat echoing in my ears, I faced the gathering horde. Their expressions were a chaotic blend of terror and anger. 

"He started it..." I stammered, trying to convey my act of self-defense. But as my eyes scanned the crowd, it was clear they didn’t understand me. Several men emerged from the depths of the crowd, their hands wielding the tools of their trade, now turned into weapons of intimidation. The grim determination in their eyes punctuated each step they took.

Realizing the futility of any further communication or defense, I abruptly turned and fled the town, my boots thudding heavily against the ground. When I finally dared to glance back at the town's edge, relief washed over me. No one had followed.

But my momentary relief quickly faded along with the last vestiges of daylight.

 As I reached the peak of a nearby hill, I gasped in hurried breaths. The sun had dipped below the horizon, and the once-red sky had surrendered to the embrace of dark violet, shrouding the world in twilight. 

Ominous clouds rolled in, threatening rain.

Desiring shelter from the impending downpour, I scanned my surroundings. My eyes strained in the diminishing light, but I finally spotted a tree overlooking the southwestern fringe of the town. Its massive roots were intertwined around a hollowed-out trunk, creating a potential sanctuary.

Before stepping inside, I grabbed a nearby stick and I poked cautiously to ensure no other creature had already claimed the dwelling. Fortunately, nothing scurried out in response to my prodding, but I couldn’t help but cringe at the amount of spiderwebs that clung to the stick. I stepped over the gnarled roots and nestled myself into the hollow, pulling my knees close to my chest while wrapping my arms around myself for warmth.

As I settled in, my gaze drifted toward the small town below. In the early evening, flickering lights began to illuminate the dwellings like fireflies. I observed the delicate shadow play of the townsfolk as they bustled about, returning from the fields and preparing their evening meal. 

Smoke curled up from the chimneys and disappeared into the encroaching darkness, carrying the enticing aroma of dinner cooking. The scene felt perfectly provincial.

I continued to watch the town until I succumbed to the night. My eyes closed before the first stars blinked into existence overhead, and I drifted into an uneasy slumber, my mind filled with questions about this strange place.