5 Heading North Gone South

5 Heading North Gone South

It was very silly of me, the whole thing. Heading north, being considerate. But who am I kidding, it wasn't my first mistake, or last. And it didn't end up badly. I have met my first friend. Not that he wouldn't shoot me in the head, repeatedly, but it's a start. All things considered, it's very romantic. Let me explain.
               I originally planned to head east, to reach the ocean. No real reason, but it was a long journey and I needed time to think. After the Swamp, I reconsidered. There were things happening to me. Things I didn't understand. Things I didn't like. Couldn't control. And it felt good. That worried me. A lot.
               So I went north instead, hoping for a dead zone. I thought it could be refreshing after the meeting with the new world's flora. For some time, it seemed just like I hoped. I followed the Mississippi River upstream and, for a while, I was completely alone. There was absolute silence. Peace.
               Then the landscape changed. Woods. For miles and miles. Wilderness. The creatures living in there were quite bizarre. And overgrown. The trees had strange colours, mostly as if it was autumn, but some turned blue or purple. They made weird, periodical noises. The grass underneath them was also strange. As if made of glass, it sparkled and broke when I touched it. It made quiet shattering noises. And, in the centre of all this, there was something. Something I couldn't comprehend back there. Something beautiful.

                I walked through the forest, among the creatures. They passed me, they didn't care about my presence. I was just like them. I was one of them. A creature. I walked for days.
                Something whistled next to my ear. It was fast and small. I turned. Another whistle. It hit my neck. Shoulder. Leg. Neck again. I fell to my knees. I was angry and dizzy. Angrier. Dizzier. Tired.
                I woke up, probably hours later. Everything hurt. I wasn't tied, no. It was much worse. There were tubes hanging from me. I could barely move. I felt cold, a strange kind of cold. There was nothing but freezing pink mist around me. It covered the glass with frost. There was someone standing behind it, watching me.

*     *     *

She generally gave herself very good advice, (though she very seldom followed it).

Lewis Carroll, Alice in Wonderland, 1865