Back home it is rare that you see the world in its true colors, for most people. Wake up in the morning, and the streets are still lit up, filling the gray pavements with the warm yellowish light. I was used to this sight, but with no streetlights the mornings looked different, and not by a slight margin.

The slight clearing the pond provided allowed for a bit more light to pass through, however most of the forest was filled with a heavy smoke looking shadow. It was nearly physically cold, but only nearly - it was still warmer than any summer I lived through. If during the daylight forest was filled with slightly dark greenish color, with the turquoise moss brightening the ground, while the sun didn't provide that much light - it looked quite grim. Everything looked desaturated, as if almost all of the color was removed, leaving mostly gray with a tinge of blue. It's strange to admit that during this hour - the lush green forest looked a lot like the city landscape, dull and cold.

I was sitting on the ground, scrubbing my body with a wet cloth. The cold water was sending shivers across my skin. Of course it seems like in the situation I was in - skipping on washing myself wouldn't be such big deal, but for me - it was force of habit. You wake up, you go wash yourself - simple as that. Water didn't have any metallic scent, nor any traces of chlorine in it, clean and untouched by anything as far as i knew. It was refreshing to say the least, ice cold - not the temperature of water I would use to wash my body. My sack-pants were lying a little bit away, as I took them off - not going to wear wet clothing first thing in the morning, summer-cold is the worst.

My teeth chattered a bit, but I wanted to wash myself clean. Somehow I felt dirty, not because of the brown dried bloodstains on my feet and shins, not even due to the dirt and sweat covering my body. I simply felt pathetic, and the feeling stuck to me for the whole day yesterday, it stuck like rancid smelling glue. Washing myself was just a way to get the last day behind me, forget it without letting it slip away from the memory.

As I scrubbed blood off of my feet, coloring the flowing water in dirty-red, I was studying the tattoo on my hand. The lines were fine, however there was no feeling of discomfort, no swelling, no blood, it was a mystery as for how it was made- more importantly, it was rather doubtful that the pattern on my skin was man made. Ridiculous, but that's the illogical conclusion I came to. If you get a tattoo - you will be feeling at least some pain, followed by red skin, blood and a lot of healing until it looks right. The thing on my hand seemed to just appear out of nowhere, with no sign of actually being tattooed. I first thought about being under some sort of anesthesia, moved, branded and then thrown into the forest, though that possibility once again seemed unlikely.

If I was under the effects of some drug for a long time, there would be withdrawal symptoms. But I felt perfectly fine, despite being magically teleported to a different location. Here I was, sitting in a puddle of ice-cold water, washing myself and thinking about the fact that there was likely magic involved in this whole scenario, and not Pen and Teller kind.

The mark on the backside of my hand seemed to have no purpose whatsoever. I tried tracing the lines with the tips of my fingers, pressing on it, scraping and shaking the hand - no reaction proved that the tattoo was just that - a tattoo.

"Ridiculous.." - I couldn't cope with the thought that the mark on my hand had no apparent purpose, besides being a cosmetic feature. Everything had to make sense, but this- among many other things - didn't. I was used to games having some sort of logic, having a system behind it, making sense and providing a sensible plot-line, even if you had to think about it. This made no sense for now, the grumbling stomach, on the other hand - did, besides the interest in the tattoo faded quite fast, mostly as it didn't provide me with more fuel to spike my curiosity.

Had enough time to think in the "shower" I hurriedly put the pants back on, of course there was no-one around, but it didn't feel right to be stark naked in the middle of the forest. Even less logic to my actions - I once again chewed on the purple-maple leaves and smeared the paste on my skin, not covering everything this time, just a few spots here and there. I could once again smell only the wet moss, but most importantly - the tiny buzzers left me alone. These insects were the number one reason for me to avoid nature in the old times, maybe I should have coped with them though and got a higher tolerance to their bites or something.

Droplets of water were dripping on my shoulders from the unkempt curls of my hair. The light brownish hay bale on my had wasn't cut for a long time, but as far as I knew it was still the same length as before, that's another point to the fact that I couldn't have been unconscious for longer than a week - my bangs would reach further than my nose. I let go of the strand of hair from my bangs that I lined along the bridge of my nose, as if using it for scale. The strand bounced back into a wavy form and aligned itself in a seemingly random direction. I simply swiped it away from my forehead and the curls grabbed onto each other somewhat holding in place, not falling onto my eyebrows, or into the line of sight.

My head was messy to say the least, hopefully there were no tics in this forest, getting bitten and possibly sick - wasn't anywhere on my agenda. I could look for the tiny black suckers on most of my body, but if one would crawl in my head - it's "Gee Gee", only hope was- that the moss would scare them away, or it would stop drinking my blood, as it's filled with all sorts of lingering shit. My stomach seemed to curl on itself, it felt a bit nauseous, just like old times.

I crawled through the thick bushes back to the little "camp" and threw some sticks into the fire pit, keeping it burning, so that I won't have to relight it. My palms were already blistering from the yesterdays' stick-spinning, as such I would really appreciate the fire burning for as long as it was physically possible. Each time I clenched my fist, it seemed like I had a hard rubber glove on my hand filled with nearly dried wax, that was due to the whole lot of rubbing my palms went through to start the flame. I grabbed the poor excuse for a spear that I've made during the night and made my way to the water.

....

OK, maybe it all looks nice and easy when someone capable or even somewhat experienced tries to fish, however I struggled. I felt fatigue from the physical workout, and my breath wasn't as calm as it should be. Standing ankle-deep in the water, I was holding the spear - ready to strike a fish when an opportunity would present itself, it seemed more like someone trying to copy something he's seen on TV, like a kid mimicking a character from a game or cartoon. Looking like you are fishing is a lot different than actually fishing, but it was a start, and I didn't expect much really. The sun reflected from the surface and blinded me, disrupting my aim. I really thought of the Polaroid glasses as the greatest invention ever, one that I didn't have on me of course. To be honest, it's not like the sun was to blame, I wasn't great at trying to stab a moving fish.

I didn't go deeper into the water, mostly because there was no need for that - the fish were circling in the shallow waters. They swam really close to me, nearly scratching my feet with their fins - seems like they really didn't care at all. My hand struck the spear down, as one fish seemed to be close enough for me to strike, but the tip hit the muddy ground instead. Quite far away from the place I was aiming at, judging by the position of the target.

"Huh?" - My brows curled a bit, which made me look like an angry owl - yes the eyebrows of mine were quite thick, light though - so I didn't look like someone bushy brows', an I didn't wear a green jumpsuit.

Nevertheless, I really thought that I hit the fish spot on, then the realization came. Water bends light, so anything below the surface was not as close as it seemed, as well as the angle of the throw had to be adjusted, it is common knowledge, but somehow I forgot about it. Knowing something and applying the knowledge was quite different. Hitting the target appeared to be a little challenging, but people did so for thousands of years, so I could do the same..probably. It was harder than right-clicking with a mouse on the tiny creatures on the computer screen.

So, the next twenty minutes were spent entertaining the inhabitants of the pond with my seemingly useless struggle. I was able to adjust to the way water distorted the view, however it didn't accomplish much. The fish were really nimble, and as my spear hit the surface of the water, they moved their body away. They were just too fast for me and I couldn't predict their movements, as they just reacted randomly - well, I didn't see the pattern yet.

To add insult to injury - the fish didn't mind my feet at all, knowing that the feet wouldn't attack them, and even if I would try to stomp on them - they would just move away, in fact they did so a few times as I was losing my temper. I couldn't strike them when they were this close to my feet, the risk of stabbing myself was real. Somehow it seemed that I was more of a threat to myself than anything in this place.

As half an hour of failure passed, I was somewhat out of breath already, spear-fishing seems quite tiring to the body, as I was breathing heavily. Seems I was in worse shape than first thought and already had to take a rest, I could feel the blood rushing to my face as it lit up, my ears were also burning. I looked like a sweating tomato - not a pretty sight if you ask me, nor appetizing. My feet were stinging a bit from the water, probably caused by the small cuts from when I moved through the bushes in and out of the camp.

Having failed at acquiring food, I moved to a different task. I could just take a quick rest and try again, but my temper would make me anxious of failure and more mistakes would be made, so moving to a different, less strenuous work it is. Multitasking, or multi-failing in my case. I moved back to the stream for a quick drink, and visited Mr.Tree to think about politics for a little bit..at least my kidneys worked fine.

"I will have to get an actual semblance of a toilet..well, make one, not get.. when I finally manage to acquire food I can't go shitting everywhere like an animal..no.. even animals in enclosure use a single corner for it.. " - Having decided that digging a hole some distance away from the camp would be wise, I immediately didn't do it. Hurray to procrastination and being a blabbermouth, or easily distracted by my own thoughts.

Still hoping to find some easy food, thinking positive is so cute, - I decided that it would be good to scout the territory I was currently in. To be honest, I hoped for some easy source of calories, like a bacon-tree...or a drive through in the middle of the forest. I wasn't used to not be able to eat when I wanted to, you can say I was spoiled in that way, but quite a lot of people are the same. Lame excuse- but hey, made me feel a bit less helpless.

Once again I returned to camp, just to grab a piece of cloth and a few black coals. As I didn't have a knife, I had to use some other way to mark the direction on the trees. The glass was out of the question, I decided not to waste the only cutting tool I had for simple tasks, so I took the coal to use as a makeshift pencil. If I didn't even do that - I could get lost in the woods in no time, and by that I mean immediately. A few steps among trees a little spin and congratulations - you are lost. I'd rather not get lost, especially when I had found a source of drinkable water. Imagine finding a pile of gold, going to get a bag and never being able to trace your steps in reverse..maddening.

My fingers pushed a black coal to the light-gray tree bark, leaving a sideways "T" pointing the flat end to where my water source was located. I could draw an arrow, but that would be too obvious, paranoid mind didn't let me act this simple. Not like a whole bunch of other signs wouldn't bring anyone with eyes to my camp. Everything would be so much easier if I had some sort of previous training, but unfortunately all I had was the random knowledge from the internet - don't get me wrong, I still felt like half a Rambo.

By the way, I didn't move in a straight line, rather - in a squarish spiral. Less chance to get lost like that, if only because you stumble around the same area quite a few times, so you start to recognize the surroundings even if a bit. Walking through the forest barefoot was still not really enjoyable, but as I focused more on looking around, and less on the branches sticking into my foot - it became a bit easier. The thing though - walking in circles around the pond-lake, which wasn't that large, was still time-consuming, it took me a few good hours to get far away from the water.

I could hear the wind rustling the leaves somewhere at the top.. well- that's it. Other than myself, I didn't make anything out from the noise. While looking around, on the other hand, I was getting familiar with the flora of the area. Long grass, which grew in patches amongst the moss, was quite hard to the touch, as if sandpaper. I could use it in some way, but if I tried to pull it out - it would just cut me eventually. Not quite worth it, so I just noted the green, thin and long grass in the mental encyclopedia of things and moved on.

Other than young thin trees and bushes similar to those I was residing in - there wasn't much. A few bushes of purmap, amazing name I know - Purple-Maple was too long to my liking, and a lot of moss, that was dry and brittle where the sun touched it's surface.

I have found something that a first looked like a curly bush, but happened to be simply one plant with a short stem and a lot of long curly leaves, which were rather soft to the touch. I ripped one off and tried biting it, immediately getting a disappointed look on my face. I couldn’t bite through easily and it felt like trying to chew on a cotton ball, the fibers in the leaves were really similar to cotton. I immediately thought about a certain use for them, and as such called the plant paper-leaf. Once again toiletpaperleaf was rather long. The stem was hard as a stick, and I decided against biting that, kind of fearing that my teeth wouldn't last otherwise.

I decided to call it a day and return to camp...easier said than done, as it took a few hours tracing through the woods looking for my marks and figuring the way to the camp. I did it though, and was feeling a little tiny bit of pride for it.

I returned back to my fire, which was still smoking, and put the little pile of paper-leaf plants near the log. They were easy to fully pull out of the ground, so I took four of those as I was going back to camp. I still had the whole day, and somehow - avoided returning back to the pond where the evil fish would get the better of me. You can say I was trying to avoid failure by avoiding the job itself, which of course was just a temporary solution, shitty one at that.

While the sun was still somewhere far away, and the cool morning air prevailed, I didn't even notice that it was getting a lot hotter every minute. The air heated up rather fast. I was sweating from every pore of my body, quite literally. It wasn't unbearable, more like - unexpected. Seems like I will be making a lot of trips to the stream with the heat in the picture.