I felt heavy. I felt dizzy. I felt a little nauseous. Everything was vague.
An image of a sunny day flashed in my eyes.
It was cold, where ever I was. Not a heavy cold, one that rushes into your bones the moment you step out of a door, but a more fresh one, a lighter kind of cold.
I tried to open my eyes and failed. I tried to move my fingers. That I could do. But everything felt so heavy, stiff. Like it had been a long time since I last moved. I let my weight pull me down and tried to concentrate on something else.
What ever I was laying on wasn't hard like stone, but it wasn't soft either. I could feel my bone pressing against the ground through my hip. It was dark. I hadn't been able to open my eyes, but it was easy to tell. There wasn't much light pouring through my eyelids. Enough that I knew it wasn't pitch dark, that I would be able to see, once I got my eyes open, but by no means bright.
I moved my hand again. This time it moved better, more naturally. I flexed my fingers into a fist. Something brushed against them as I did so. I couldn't tell what it was.
I felt a small point of cold on my cheek. It disappeared soon. Another. On my hand, too. I forced my eyes open, very slowly, carefully. The cold, tiny spots on my face and hands were snow. It was slowly falling down from the sky, light, small flakes. There wasn't any on the ground. At least not yet. I didn't see anything that would give light, but it was obvious there was something behind me illuminating the scene in front of me.
That's when my survival instinct kicked in. I knew I had to get up. It was cold enough that if I didn't, I'd freeze. I didn't feel too cold yet, but I knew it was only a matter of time.
I flexed the fingers on my other hand, finding that the stiffness and heaviness wasn't so bad anymore, like it was lifting from my entire body at the same time, not only from the parts I had worked the stiffness out of, like my hand and eyelids, but from everywhere else too. I moved my feet experimentally. They worked. Or at least moved. I dipped myself onto my back, now staring at where the small snowflakes were coming from. I felt the ground under me. It was grass. I only felt it with my fingertips. I was wearing some kind of fingerless gloves.
I slowly pushed myself up onto my elbows, and continued all the way up. Too fast. It got my head spinning. I lifted one of my hands to me head, trying to balance myself with the other, trying to grab something for support. My hand found nothing. Again there was a flash of an image in my head, but I couldn't tell what it was.
After the dizziness faded I pulled my hand out of my shortish hair and took an experimental step. It turned out my feet were working.
I looked around then, at where I was. It was a clearing in a forest. Or at least a clearing within some trees, spruces and leafless birches, mostly. I couldn't see far enough to tell if the trees continued far. It was dark, but I couldn't tell the time more than that. There was no wind, none at all. I turned around and saw an old lantern with a candle hanging on one of the tree branches, showing the beginning of a path into the woods. There were other similar lanterns, leading the way further out.
I just stared for a moment, not knowing what to do. Then I shivered. I wrapped the thin coat I seemed to be wearing more tightly around me and started walking towards the first lantern. There was nothing else I could do, really. I couldn't stay here. I couldn't stumble off into the dark woods.
Not that I knew following the lights would be any better. I didn't know where I was. I realised I didn't even know where I could possibly be. I didn't know any places.
Ok, I decided. I'll just follow the lanterns. They have to take me somewhere, and somewhere seems to be better than in the middle of the forest in a freezing what I assumed to be a night.
I walked for a good while. The heaviness and stiffness left me after a time, and I got warmer as I walked. I felt good. The woods around me seemed to whisper. It didn't scare me. It was an encouraging whisper.
A smell came from somewhere, surprising me. It was a sweet smell, like cinnamon and cardamom and warmth. I looked around me, noticing a small cabin by the edge (that I hadn't noticed before) of the woods. The windows were lit, so I headed that way. What's the worst that could happen, right?
The door was small, just high enough that I wouldn't have to bend if I walked in. I knocked on it carefully. Nothing happened. I knocked again, with a little more force. I could hear foot steps coming from inside.
A small, old woman opened the door and looked up at me. I looked back at her. There was a live fire fluttering and lighting up the room behind her.
"Uh..." I said, my voice hoarse. I cleared my throat and tried again. "Hello", I didn't know what else to say, so I stopped there.
"And who are you?" the woman asked. She had a sweet face, and smiled a little bit up at me.
That was the moment I realised I hadn't even thought of that, about who I was. A split second later I realised also, that I didn't know.
I had absolutely no idea who I was.
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I've had the idea for the beginning setting for this for a few weeks now. I'm kind of excited to be starting a new story, finally. I hope this one is better than the previous one. I'm also a little excited about it, because it already has the familiar feel of Christmas coming. A little like Gigantti. And Christmas means that I won't have stuff I need to be doing. Except I have to do some studying over the vacation, but mostly.
Ookay, enough. Your topic for tomorrow is... Why have we used everything that comes to my mind?
Soap?
I think we haven't used Soap. So let's go with that.
I'll see you tomorrow.
~matu
PS. If (when) I have horrible annoying typos again, please go correct them. Today I was sitting in a genetics exam trying to concentrate on the questions instead of correcting the few typos and grammar errors that they had, but you know how it is. It's impossible to find typos from your own text.
PPS. This time what I'd like to write is a beautiful story. Could we do that?
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