Blood dripped down my fingers and I couldn’t stop crying. I was alone in the forest, walking blindly, the only sound was my footsteps and the faint rustling of the leaves.

My chest hurt and it wasn’t just from pushing myself too far whilst running. No, my heart hurt. I was so sad, so disappointed in myself and I knew that, in Mitch’s world, I was crying alone in an airplane bathroom.

They could probably hear me through the door. They could probably hear my pathetic sobs as I fought to breathe.

Mitch had lied and I knew it. I hadn’t done well, I’d hesitated and messed up. He’d been shot because of me and then we’d had to swim through that disgusting rancid water so it had probably gotten infected. He could die.

I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t go back there and wait anxiously to find out if he died or not, constantly watching him for any sign of infection or illness. I couldn’t watch him die.

I couldn’t go back.

Another sob burst out of my mouth as I realised that, the thought bouncing around in my head. I couldn’t return to the one place where I had people who actually cared about me and wanted me there. If I didn’t go back, he would just stay there, stuck in time forever, right? He’d be frozen and I’d never have to find out if I caused his death.

It didn’t work like that and I knew it. I knew it wasn’t just some ridiculous fantasy that I’d started because I was bored and needed to find somewhere where I didn’t feel entirely alone all of the time. It felt real.

Maybe it was real.

Irrational irritation washed through me. It wasn’t real, it couldn’t be. If it was then that meant I was, what? Visiting other worlds in my mind? No. That’s ridiculous and it couldn’t happen. I lived in reality. People couldn’t just visit other worlds, other worlds didn’t exist. It didn’t matter how real they felt or if the stuff I’d learnt about was somehow correct, it couldn’t be real.

I stopped walking and sat down heavily again.

Was this what it felt like to go mad? I was mourning a man who wasn’t even real and he wasn’t even dead. I was crying about a life that I didn’t really lead. I was almost convinced that it was real, that everything I’d done with Mitch, that everything I’d experienced in the other worlds and Anna were real. It couldn’t be. That was something ridiculous, something out of a story. It wasn’t real.

I wasn’t special. I was just some sad stupid girl who was so lonely and miserable that she invented this whole thing to avoid having to deal with reality. I made this entire fantasy so that I wouldn’t have to put up with my mom and my grandparents and so that I could feel loved.

It was ridiculous. Pathetic really.

A broken, bitter laugh forced its way out of my mouth. I couldn’t believe that I was crying in the woods over something so minor, something entirely made up. I truly was pathetic.

But that self-hatred didn’t help. It didn’t make my heart hurt less or my tears stop. It took a long time before they finally dried and I was able to stand. Wiping my face with the back of my hands, I blinked and stared at my hands.

They looked a mess. They looked even worse than they had in my daydream, which hurt more even thinking about it. Bits of dirt were still stuck to them and blood had been flowing freely down my fingers from my wounded palms. They looked horrifying, like something out of a horror movie.

I couldn’t go back to the house looking like that. I could just imagine how my grandmother and mom would react. How much they would judge me. They’ve both told me on numerous occasions before that a lady is graceful, she doesn’t bump into things or fall over. Running through the woods with blood dripping down my hands was not ladylike and I knew it.

Plus, I didn’t want them to know I’d been crying. I wouldn’t be able to explain it and I knew that, if I tried, I’d be mocked. Crying over a fantasy? It was pathetic, I was aware of that and I didn’t need to hear someone say it to me.

I wiped my nose again and sniffed loudly, my mind already trying to formulate a plan. I needed to stop crying, to give my face a chance to stop being so swollen so that my mom wouldn’t be able to tell. I needed to clean up my hands and find a way to hide them until they were healed or at least until my grandparents got bored of us. My mom wouldn’t care about them anyway near as much once they were going. She’d barely even tell me off for it.

But how could I do any of that?

I forced myself to take a slow, deep breath, feeling it catch slightly in my throat. It didn’t help but I continued, feeling myself become a little more and more under control, the longer I tried.

Eventually, the tears stopped. My face still felt hot and puffy but at least I’d stopped crying. It was a start. Maybe not enough of one but still a start.

Next, I had to get off the ground. I couldn’t stay there.

Slowly, I stood. My legs cried out in pain as I did and I realised that I wasn’t even sure how long I’d been running. I wasn’t sure where I was. I was on the path in the woods but it all looked the same. I could have been running for hours.

That thought terrified me. What if I had and I was lost? Would I be able to find my way back?

Anxiety built in me as I reached for my phone in my pocket, trying not to smear blood everywhere but I had to know where I was. I pulled it out, clicking on the maps icon and leaving a faint red smudge on my screen.

It took so long. I barely had any signal and it took ages for the GPS to be able to find me.

A sigh slipped out of my lips. I was far away from the house but not as far as I feared. I’d run in a loop without even realising so I was already on my way back to the house. It would only be another twenty minutes or so before I got back. Longer if I walked slowly which I probably would.

I stared in the direction of the house, unable to see it through the trees, and started walking. I needed to find a way to wash my hands before I got there. But, how? There obviously was no tap in the woods that I could use. There was a tap near the front gate that the gardener used to water the flowerbeds there.

I could use that if I snuck around to the front of the house. If I went on to the far side, away from the windows, I could probably get by unseen. Unless they chose that exact moment to look out the window of the TV room and happened to see me.

I’d need to be really careful. If they did see me sneaking, that would be worse. They’d immediately assume that I was up to no good which… I kind of was. But they think it was worse than a little blood on my hands.

I glanced down at my hands. Well, maybe not a little.

It was drying pretty quickly at least but that made it feel worse. The blood was tightening on my skin and occasionally flaking away, leaving red-stained skin below.

I suppressed a shudder. It looked gory and made me a little queasy. More than a little. I just held my hands out slightly so that they wouldn’t touch me at all and avoided looking at them which meant I had to stare blankly around the forest as I walked.

That wasn’t really a problem, the forest was beautiful. I loved being in there. It was quiet but not silent which meant that my brain didn’t start endlessly spiralling the way it normally did in silence. The gentle rustle of the trees ebbed and flowed with the wind, almost like waves on a beach. Light illuminated the leaves making them vibrant, almost too bright. It made them look a little fake, as if someone had painstakingly painted each leave to make it look perfect.

It was perfect. Even the ivy that wrapped around the tree trunks looked perfect.

Paranoia flared in me but I pushed it aside. I had no reason to feel paranoid, it was just a forest. It was nature and nature was beautiful. It was probably just so perfect because my grandparents left it alone to thrive or maybe the local national trust kept an eye on it.

Whatever it was, it wasn’t fake.

It felt it though. It almost felt like someone had designed the woods to make them look perfect. It was like a set from a movie. Everything in the forest, from the sound to the way the light dappled the path, was too good. Too… exactly what someone would expect from a forest.

I stopped walking and looked around. I wasn’t really sure what I was looking for but I had a faint prickling sensation at the back of my neck, like I was being watched. It was probably just an animal or something but it felt like someone was there. I couldn’t see them though.

The trees fell silent as I looked around the forest. There wasn’t even the quiet sound of animals. It was just silent.

A shudder ripped through me, almost making me dizzy for a split second, and I forced myself to start walking again, the wind starting up again. I was being ridiculous. Stupid.

There was no one watching me, it wasn’t a set or fake. I was just alone in the forest. It was fine. I always went for a run in the woods when I was at my grandparents.

I did start walking faster though and it wasn’t long before I neared the edge of the woods. I hesitated, staying in the shadow of the forest and surveying the house. The windows were all closed and I couldn’t see into the TV room from where I was.

I had two options. Creep along the edge, darting from tree to tree, or walk confidently, like I was just strolling casually.

I honestly wasn’t sure which was the better option. If I crept, they might still see me but there was less of a chance. If I walked across the grass, out of the safety of the trees, I’d look way less suspicious but then they might see my hands.

I nodded to myself, making my decision. I would creep through the trees.

Leaving the track, I started stepping carefully through the brambles and weeds that lined the edge of the forest. They parted easily, the hint of a path showing as I walked.

Someone else had done the walk before. At some point, someone else had snuck around the side of the house and to the front gate.

The thought brought a hint of a smile to my face. I liked to think it was my mom. I don’t know why but that made me happier. It made me feel more like her. Kind of like if she saw what I was doing, she’d understand it?

Maybe it would make her like me more. She’d see that we were almost similar. That made me feel conflicted. I wanted her to like me, I wanted her to love me, but I didn’t want to be like her. I wanted to be… I don’t know. I wanted to be different.

I reached the far wall and stopped, looking out towards the house again. From there, I’d have way less cover. There were trees sporadically dotted along the edge of their land, not enough to completely hide me but enough for me to use.

Movement caught my eye and I slipped further back into the woods, a stinging nettle reaching through my leggings and causing me to flinch.

My mom was outside. She was sitting on the front step, smoking a cigarette. I wasn’t sure if she was waiting for me or hiding from her parents but either way, I knew I couldn’t go that way, not until she went inside at least.

I watched her for a minute, waiting to see if she was going to go inside again but she didn’t move. She was on her phone, hunched over and barely paying attention to the world. She looked strangely young. Looking at her, I could almost see how she was as a kid, hiding outside until she gathered the strength to return to her parents.

I could probably slip past her without her seeing. She might not even look up but I didn’t want to risk it. I needed to find another way to get to the front of the house.

My eyes found the wall again. I could climb over it. I’d climbed walls in my fantasy, it couldn’t be that hard. I’d managed to get into the pub to meet Mitch so I could probably manage it, even if that wasn’t real. I could do it. The wall wasn’t that high.

I retreated back into the forest even further, stepping carefully over the stinging nettles, wincing as even more brushed against my legs and stopped, my hand resting against the wall as I contemplated my plan.

I could climb the wall and walk through the field on the other side to the wall that the front. That wall was only short and I was pretty sure there was a gate somewhere there. Then, I could climb the fence at the front of the house, try not to catch the back of my legs on it again, and wash my hands in the tap. Then, I just walk up the path on the other side of the house and hope my grandparents aren’t in the kitchen.

It wasn’t the best plan, too much rested on chance, but it would do. I looked up at the wall, one hand finding a stone that jutted out before pausing again as a realisation hit me.

There was a camera at the front gate. There was no way I’d be able to walk past it without the camera spotting me. I’d have to go to the other side of the house, the camera didn’t point in that direction. There was a wall there and another field on the other side but that one generally had animals in it. I was pretty sure it was just sheep though. That would be fine, sheep weren’t a problem.

I stepped away from the wall, climbing back over the plants to the barely used path and starting towards the other side of the forest. I tried to move as quietly as possible so that my mom wouldn’t hear me, but it was hard. There were twigs everywhere. Every few steps, I’d break one and fall silent, my heart pounding.

Somehow, I managed to make it to the other side without my mom even looking up. Or, at least, I was pretty sure I managed to because for half the walk, she was blocked from view by the house but she didn’t come and investigate so I was pretty sure she hadn’t seen me.

The wall on the other side was more weathered. The rocks were a little rougher but that was good. It meant that I’d have more grip. I glanced back at the house one more time before grabbing hold of the wall and starting to climb.

I didn’t need to climb far before reaching the top but it was long enough that it wiped most of the blood from my hands and caused some of the cuts to reopen, leaving red marks on the stone. It didn’t really matter though. I didn’t think my grandparents ever went out into the woods and had no reason to look at the wall so they wouldn’t suspect anything. Even if they did, I was pretty sure they’d assume that the blood just came from an animal that had flown into it or something.

I hauled myself onto the top of the wall with surprising ease. My hands stung and my legs were tired and shaking but they hadn’t even bothered me. I didn’t want to linger on the wall for too long, it made me feel exposed, but the view stopped me. The field stretched out in front of me, dotted with sheep, but beyond that, a green-covered hill stretched up towards the brilliantly blue sky. It was beautiful.

But I needed to hurry up.

I quickly checked the ground below me for sheep poo before jumping off the wall and landing heavily. A nearby sheep bleated in surprise as I stumbled but I shushed it. It examined me for a moment before seeming to give up and walking away.

Relief washed through me. I was safe in the field, I knew that my grandparents wouldn’t be able to see me and neither would my mom. I could walk without worry, even if it was only until I reached the gate.

It was a good couple of minutes though, despite the strong smell of manure, but as I neared the fence at the front of the field, I could feel myself becoming more and more tense. I was worried that my grandparents would drive past just as I reached the gate and then I’d have even more questions to answer. Their car had been outside the house when I’d been sneaking through the forest but what if they’d chosen to go out for lunch?

I didn’t see them though. Even as I crossed the cattle grid and climbed the fence, no cars passed the house. I was glad. I felt like if someone had seen me scanning the fence at the front of my grandparent’s house, they would have called the police or at least asked me what I was doing and I truly wasn’t sure how I would answer that.

I decided on climbing the sharp topped fence as far to the right as possible. That made sense to me. It was mostly hidden from view by a huge tree and it was far enough away from that gate that I didn’t need to worry about them catching it on camera.

I glanced down the road again, checking both ways, before starting to climb the fence. It was much harder than the wall, taller too, and it wasn’t until I was clinging to the metal halfway up it that I realised I could have just climbed the wall in the field I’d walked through and dropped down on that side which would have been so much easier. My head fell forwards against the cold metal and I bit back a groan of annoyance before continuing to pull myself up.

It wasn’t too hard, much easier than the last time I’d done it. I perched on the top of the wall, leaves hitting me in the face as I balanced carefully between the spikes,and tried to work out how to get down carefully. It wasn’t particularly high, just a bit taller than the wall, but I was scared of just jumping down.

It was a stupid fear, irrational, but I was worried that I’d catch my legging or my arm or something on the spike and it would rip through my clothing and then I’d need to explain that as well as my bloody hands to someone. Also, I couldn’t see the ground through the leaves and I was too scared that I’d land on something bad and hurt myself even more.

My eyes found the wall just to my right again. I could probably edge along the top of the gate, stepping in between the spikes, and then climb onto the wall then lower myself from there. Yes, that was a better plan.

Staying crouched, I started creeping along the top of the gate, clinging to the metal and hoping that I wouldn’t fall or that a car wouldn’t come. It was a quiet road, I’d probably be fine.

It took so long. I moved so slowly, so carefully to make sure that I didn’t fall, but I managed to get to the end. Stretching out one foot, I managed to reach the wall before having to awkwardly climb down, my hands still clinging to the fence.

I could hear a car. The faint but steadily growing crunch of a car driving along the road outside the gate sent fear rushing through me. I glanced down, trying to see through the leaves but still not being able to see the ground.

I could jump. I could have just jumped and hoped for the best but I knew that was a stupid plan. The best I could do was duck down as low as possible and pray that no one in the car looked up.

I held my breath as they passed, as if that would help, but thankfully, they didn’t stop. I was unnoticed.

Breathing out a sigh of relief, I started to climb down the wall.