It was that same day again, November seventh, and I didn’t expect that would change my life in a blink because of a photo.
That day, my instinct took charge of what I was supposed to do. I picked up my backpack, which I had filled with my necessary stuff: a blanket for my solo picnic, face towels, some sandwich, a couple of books, and, of course, some water. Then, I went to the kitchen to bid my grandma goodbye, and she handed me her favorite basket woven from flax.
“Fill this with beautiful flowers you find along the way,” she said.
I took the basket from her and hugged her tight before putting on my hiking gear. I grabbed my camping set on my way out.
I had always loved staying at my granny’s house to celebrate my birthday. I didn’t want to be out in a bar drinking and being wild with my friends. I’d rather spend time with the literal wild animals in the forest, close to nature. And the best place for me to be one with the environment was here… in Granny’s humble abode, a house in the middle of the glade surrounded by tall trees, not a concrete jungle.
City life for a country girl like me was a bit too much. Too boisterous and chaotic—things I couldn’t stand being in. I need to go to a university, and I had no choice that was why I stayed there.
I was already a few walks away from Granny’s place when a bush of wild tiger orchids caught my attention. Its yellow petals with brown spots were like dancing fairies, waving me to pluck them. But I stopped and instead went on my journey. The whistling cool breeze of the mountains was calling me. The swaying, dancing branches of the gigantic trees beckoned me to follow them so I can dance with nature. The melodious singing birds pitched their most lovely tune just to invite me to come over.
‘I’ll just pick those flowers on my way home,’ I told myself. That was at least I knew I did, but I almost drop my heart when someone—a tiny voice—whispered in my ear.
“Pick them now to save yourself from harm. Those flowers will be your lucky charm.”
“Who’s there?” I called out and looked behind me, only to see bushes and vines aside from trees. “I must be hungry that I’m hearing things.”
I paced towards the dense forest without checking where the voice came from.
**
I reached another glade in no time.
Smiling ear to ear, I hurriedly unpacked my blanket on the grass-carpeted ground and sat there while preparing my breakfast.
I always loved to be one with nature, but I couldn’t explain why. Something inside me rejoiced whenever I think of trees and the forest as if I was one of them… as if I came from them like I was the child of the wilderness.
After setting my tent, I went for a walk with my umbrella. Who knew when the rain would fall? I could also use it as my walking stick if I needed to climb a steep slope.
I was so enthralled while walking through a pathway filled with a gallimaufry of flowers; I couldn’t decide which one to pick first because all of them were magnificent, that they even glistened like diamonds under the early morning rays.
Wait. The flowers were, literally, shimmering!
I rushed to the bushes to check if my eyes were playing tricks on me. And they weren’t.
“How could this be?” I gasped.
“You’re finally seeing it,” someone said. It was the same voice from earlier.
This time a silhouette stepped out of the bushes of the floras I was looking at. It was a talking tree.
A talking female tree!
My reflexes were quick to speed away from the weird creature. I sprinted and scampered away like a frightened deer that had seen a hunter.
“Gabby, wait!”
I heard her call, but I ignored her. I kept running until I reached a deserted cemetery. There was a cemetery in the middle of this forest!
Though shocked, I kept walking until I stumbled upon a graveyard. And on the tombstone was scribbled the name ‘Gabrielle Danes,’ with my photo, and my birthday.
Why was my name written on someone’s tombstone?
Why was my photo and birthday in there, too?
My brain exploded. ‘Boom!’ My knees buckled as my feet turned icy and glued to the ground. I was lost for words. Then, my surroundings swayed and spun like I was sucked into a whirlpool until everything went black.
**
When I opened my eyes, the familiar vibe of my room back at Grandma’s house greeted me. My old lady smiled. I didn’t see it. I just knew she did.
“Oh, my! Good thing you’re back,” she said.
“How did I get here?”
“Long story. You passed out because of exhaustion.”
She was lying. We both knew I was fit enough not to be unconscious of my camping trips.
“I saw my name and my photo on a grave,” I blurted. No beating around the bush.
“Ah. So, you’ve found it.”
I got up at her response. She didn’t seem surprised.
“What do you mean, I’ve found it?”
Without a word, Grandma walked out of my room. And when she went back, she had a mirror with her.
It was the first time I saw a mirror in her house.
“That face and name weren’t yours. You just borrowed them from the girl who died several years ago.”
She handed me the mirror. But when I lifted it to see my face, my jaw dropped.
The round thing in my hand reflected a tree trunk with a woman’s face. The woman I saw earlier.
“What’s going on?” I cried, and when I tried to wipe my tears, I saw a branch with twigs instead of a hand with fingers.
“Your glamour has worn out. You’re not going back to the city,” Grandma said.