the most blurr skye of all time

awake

My hands reach out ahead of me. i feel it soft and cozy. my eyes flutter open as i stretch my limbs. they are sore. they ache. There is a light above shining onto me, I see the ground as I awake my palms covered in a mix of dirt and grass. I feel the need to stand, the need to stretch my legs as chunks of soil fall from my legs and the cloth on my body.

"ah... ow"

that sound? is that me?..  is this me? Who am.. I? I finally am brought to my feet in the middle of the woods. I feel as if i have just awaken after a long rest. what was I doing out here again? where...is here? i hear an echoing sound nearby. One that calms me and calls me in. i turn around to face a small stream carving its way into the earth. I look down at my feet, shoes still laced. the ground is fresh and has an earthy scent. Me and the stream are similar in that way. Both fresh, both filling a place in the world. I know I trust it, it beckons me forward perhaps to tell me something.

the ground crunches as my feet drag. taking step after step, staggering forward in a way that feels new? haven't I done this before? I look up to the tree tops as the light shimmers though them, spots and circles left glowing on my skin as I walk under their cover. It is all so pretty. the greenery. the chirp of critters, the comfort of it all. I bring myself to the river banks and look in. my eyes widen as I see a boy looking back at me.

White shining hair.

pale skin.

faded eyes staring back into mine....

"This... this is you? You... are.. me..?"

The voice belonging to me rings out again, this time more hoarse as i speak for longer. I lean in for a closer view, the subtle ripples obscuring  my thoughts the way it scatters my image. Fish.  mini minnows. scuttering about and headed for cover as crumbles of dirt fall into water. I? scared them? But out they come again, floating effortlessly in the water. they look at me and I look at them. they must be curious. Maybe they are curious of me? Maybe they cause the water to gurgle, to call my name. 

My name? That's right... I don't have a name. Do I?

The suns shines are blocked out from an overcast shadow above. Goodbye myself, my image dulls as I gaze deeper into the waters depths, sinking my hand into the water. C o l d. But perhaps they will know me. My name. I can't think of what to tell the fish, but their stories will tell me who I am and where to go. oh... oh no. like before they scatter away, but further down stream. they refuse my introduction to them, perhaps i offended them....

*SNAP*

The boy cautiously pulls his hand back out of the water, letting small water droplets wander down his fingertips back into the pooling water, carefully turning to the direction of the sound. His eyes search, taking in a few mere moments to adjust to see movement behind him. He stands as he realizes some squirrels play behind him, but that's not all. The breeze blows by, a chill running from his still soaked hand, eyes fixated on another figure stood in the woods. This time, he is not beckoned forward. The silhouette stands on a hill shifting to hunker behind a log of sorts rotting into the ground. Back to soil once more.

It takes only a moment to feel the change in day, as the sun has not yet returned to shine yet there is a subtle glow hiding away from him. He hesitantly approaches with a sound of breathing nearby, up the hill, across the rocks, and his chest begins to sting. The feeling of animal chatters drown out by what he recognizes is his own unsteady breaths. Shakily he lets out a sigh, stopping only for a moment as the sounds of twigs snapping returns-- much closer this time. their is a sinking feeling in his stomach as his face suddenly has a look of dread. The figure was moving and quickly. 

but

away.

"Scary...? Am I... Scary?"

His hand gripping the shirt covering his abdomen. The pit of his stomach draws down inward into himself, a feeling of sinking. Is he returning down back into the ground? He momentarily readjust himself, his weight shifts and shakes ankle to ankle glancing at his feet to realize he was never sinking at all. Why.. why is he feeling like this. He looks up past where the figure ran.

Why. Why am I so scary. What did I do. Why did he stir.. with fear from me? Who was that. Is that. Another boy, like me? Is he also from the ground?

He looks up at the canopies embracing him with their shade.

Or maybe... he's from the trees.. maybe he fell and was injured.. or?

The wind sweeps by returning the scattered light covering the forest floor

No. That's it. He's not from here...

The boy raises his hand to guard against the rays of light now beaming at him seeming brighter than before.

The... sun.... The boy of light made from sun. Unalike, as I chose to emerge from the soils grasp he was gifted from the stars. the yellow of his hair and the shine of his skin. Does he not know himself either? Perhaps his reflection could teach him.

The boy looks back to the creek, a small patch of flattened grass and mud, still fresh. He takes in the view listening to the sounds of the woodland creatures and its mysteries. He places his palm against the fallen tree trunk, this time the soft comfort of the grass replaced with the coarse grip of the bark. It feels of his hand firm as he feels of it unsure of his next move. Eyes wander up the trail towards the fresh path of parted overgrowth. His chest will rise and fall, the sense dwelling inside him replace with a new breath and determination as he thinks of the boy who's steps he's yet to take off after. To be sad. To be scared. to be lost in the woods.

He knew he had to seek him out, assure him this is their home. They are creatures like all else part of the woodland, breathing, feeling, experiencing life as all others. The boy swings one leg over the wood laying in front of him, curiosity running its way through his blood, embarking up the mound and over the hill of his own accord.

The wind thrashes longer and wilder.