Elara sat cross-legged on the small bed in Rowan's cabin, the rain drumming relentlessly against the roof. Outside, the forest shivered under the storm, but inside, the quiet was just as suffocating.
She pressed her palms to her face, taking deep, shaky breaths. Calm down, Elara, she told herself. Just calm down.
But the storm in the forest outside was nothing compared to the storm in her chest. She felt trapped, every sound amplified—the creak of the wooden floor, the rustle of leaves brushing against the walls, the distant roar of thunder.
I'm not supposed to be here, she thought, closing her eyes. I'm supposed to be home. My apartment, my bed, my life. Not… this.
She imagined herself there, curling on her couch with a blanket, the soft hum of her TV in the background, her phone glowing beside her. The memory stabbed like salt in a wound.
People are looking for me, she thought, anger bubbling up. My friends, my coworkers, my parents… they're wondering where I am. They're probably frantic, calling the police, searching for me—and why me? Why did this happen to me?
Her hands curled into fists. Why me? Why does everything have to go wrong at the exact wrong moment?
The tears threatened, but she forced them back. She wiped her eyes roughly with the back of her sleeve. "Stop it," she whispered to herself. "You can't fix it by crying. You have to… breathe. You have to—just survive."
She took another shaky breath, willing her mind to focus. She imagined herself scrolling through her phone, checking messages, seeing faces she knew, laughing at memes or news updates. The absence of it made her chest ache even more.
I can't call anyone. I can't reach anyone. I'm… alone.
Alone. The word hit her harder than she expected. She had never felt truly alone before, not like this—without the comfort of her world, surrounded by a forest that seemed to breathe in a language she didn't understand.
I can't do this, she thought, biting her lip until it bled slightly. "I just… I just want to go home. I want to go home right now."
She lay back, pressing her face into the pillow, the sound of the rain mingling with the rapid thump of her heartbeat. She imagined the warmth of her apartment, the familiar creak of her floorboards, the smell of coffee in the morning.
And then the anger came, sharp and bitter. "Why me?" she hissed into the pillow. "Why did this have to happen to me? Why did I have to… end up here?"
Her chest heaved, and she curled into herself. Slowly, she forced herself to breathe again, to calm the storm within even as the storm outside continued to rage.
I'll survive, she told herself, each word a small anchor. I don't know how, but I'll survive. And I'll figure this out. Somehow.
For now, that had to be enough. No phone. No TV. No friends. Just her, the cabin, and the rain and Rowan.
But deep inside, a spark of resolve lit quietly. She would not break. Not yet.