I'm tired. It cannot be morning, not yet, it's too soon. I just want to sleep a little longer. Why does it have to be morning so soon? Max sighs, thinking to himself as he rolls over. The ground is hard and rough against his skin and clothes, but he chooses to ignore it; it is nothing new after all.

  Growing up poor, Max never had a bed to himself; he slept on a thin mat upon the floor, so the bare ground is not much worse. The bushes near the edge of the clearing rustle as something brushes against them. Max sighs again, sitting up, he raises his hands to rub his eyes.

  His eyes are dry and crusty, the sleep still stuck to his eyelashes, he tries to rub it free again while looking towards the sound. It begins to grow louder and rougher when a roughly 3-foot-tall creature bursts from the brush. It looks almost like a child, but out of proportion; the head is at least a third of its body size, if not more.

  Its eyes are large, far larger than a human's, with a nose nothing more than two diagonal slits. Where its hair should be instead lies leaves and grass, making it blend into the surroundings. The most disconcerting part was its mouth, if you could even call it that, which was more of a large maw stretching from ear to ear filled with small, needle-like teeth.

  Sniffing like an animal, it looks up and notices Max and begins to grin before charging straight at him, mouth first, baring its dripping teeth. Max grabs a dirty rock lying near him, his eyes never leaving the creature. Getting to his feet quickly, he hefts the rock up. It is heavy but not so heavy that he cannot wield it quickly with ease. As the beast closes in, Max swings the rock while sidestepping the creature's mouth-first tackle.

  The beast roars in agony and rage, feeling the bloodied side of its head, and it turns and begins another charge. Max doesn’t panic, eyeing the creature calmly as if this was normal; waiting again for it to get just within arm's reach, dodging to the side, smacking the creature again, harder, in the side of its head. This time, the creature stumbles and falls. Nimbly, like a cat, Max pounces on it and brings the rock to bear, shouting angrily as it hits over and over again, killing the beast.

  Max lowers the rock slowly, letting it fall from his hand next to the creature's head. How many has that been? Ten? Fifteen? Twenty? Max had lost count. Sighing, he slowly stands, stumbling but catching himself; he is exhausted. He slept maybe four hours, if that, the last fifteen hours being the roughest, hardest, longest of his young life.

  Using his foot, Max rolls the rock in the dirt and grass before picking up the bloody but no longer dripping rock up off the ground. His eyes move towards the sky, sighing again, Max begins a slow trudging walk away from where the creature burst forth and heads back into the woods from the clearing. His eyes dart back and forth as he walks through the woods, both to make sure another creature doesn’t sneak up on him or anything else for that matter, and in the hopes of spotting something, anything that might help him figure out where he is.

  This is his first time being alone, truly alone. Sure, his parents had left him to play by himself every once in a while, but they were almost always within earshot in case he needed anything, let alone be at risk of anything more than falling and skinning his knees. He has no idea where they are, where he is, or how he even got here, so he keeps moving forward.

  He had tried to stop and wait for them to find him, but a creature came, and he barely killed it, his first kill, but the smell of the blood eventually brought another one to him. That one seemed harder to kill, or maybe he was just more exhausted; either way, he had to move on unless he wanted to fight more, and that didn’t seem realistic. Not that moving on stopped the creatures; he just ran into fewer of them.

  The sound of rushing water begins to fill the air, and Max leans against a tree, thinking. He hasn’t passed any water yesterday, so this most likely isn’t the way home. He is thirsty, though, and wants to see where the sounds of water are coming from, but he isn’t na?ve, even if he is young; he knows that other things that are thirsty will also be brought by the sound, so it will be dangerous.

  Eventually, the thirst wins out, and Max begins to slowly and carefully make his way toward the sound of the water, keeping near trees, trying to hide the best he can. It doesn’t take very long before he makes it to the bank of a river, parts of it are raised, making the rushing, bubbling sounds, but the part near him is slower and steadier. Max eyes the river and then takes a long time looking up and down the banks, checking the tree line on the other side and even on his side, before making his way out.

  He lies beside the river, cupping water to his mouth, quickly trying to keep his eyes everywhere at once. The cold water feels good on his parched throat; he can’t even remember when he last had something to drink. Once he has his fill, he splashes some onto his face and back of his neck, wetting his hair before darting back to the tree he had come from. It isn't long before he turns around and begins back toward the clearing he woke up in. This isn’t the way home, so he might as well try a different direction.

  It is quiet; there isn't even the sound of bugs or birds as he approaches the clearing. The quiet makes him nervous, so he creeps slowly and carefully, trying not to make noise. His fingers clench the rock tighter, knuckles whitening, but when he looks out through a bush, there is nothing. He worries for nothing. Nothing is there, and he feels like a fool.

  Max lets out a sigh and starts to shake his head in relief when he freezes. There is nothing there. No creature, no body, the clearing is completely empty. Where did its body go? He knows he killed it. It was dead, very dead, he is sure. Crouching, he looks more closely and carefully at every inch of the clearing, and he eventually spots the blood from his fight.

  Not being careless, he edges around the clearing, checking all around to make sure nothing comes up behind him or he stumbles into anything he gets closer to that side of the clearing. Max observed the ground and finally saw drag marks leading off to the brush to the Southwest.

  Southwest? Well, the sun rose in the east, the direction I had headed, so yea, southwest. I’m pretty sure yesterday, when I reached this clearing, it was from the west… Did it follow me? The creature had also come from the West when it had attacked him.

  I don’t see any tracks from where whatever took the thing came from, not like I'd really notice tracks anyway, but it was probably from either the west or the southwest, the same way it left… Looks like I'm not going that way, at least not yet. Max promptly turns and heads toward what he assumes would be North.

  Even with his parents being overprotective and always being near, Max is a careful child, not fearful but careful. He doesn’t like to upset people, or get hurt, or disappoint anyone. He is well-behaved and tries to be a good kid. Of course, the first time he wasn’t careful or mindful, this had to happen to him.

  He knew better; he should never have left their side. Wandering off is a bad thing, and he knew it, but he hadn’t planned on going far. She had sounded scared, and he just wanted to help her. His parents were busy, and they didn’t seem to notice her, or even him wandering off, and she didn’t sound that far away. He never did find who the voice belonged to, but that was the least of his worries now.

  The day passes quickly, and Max is still lost. He is hungry; he saw something, unsure what to call it, eating the berries of a bush. Hesitantly, he tries them, and they don’t seem to be poisonous. There aren’t many left, and he finishes them quickly, only very slightly lessening his hunger.

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  Dusk is on its way, and he doesn’t want to risk looking for more in the dark, so he looks for someplace to lie low for the night. It isn’t glamorous, but it is safer than the previous night, so he crawls into a small space between and under some thorny bushes, making sure not to get cut or scratched and that he is fully under before trying to get some sleep.

  Unlike the previous night, he isn’t chased into the dark; he is safe, so Max tries to get some sleep, but he just can’t. His mind races and won’t slow down or turn off. It just keeps replaying the last 27 hours over and over again.

  Dawn's light breaks another day, and shortly after, Max wakes up just as grumpily but at least without being attacked. Squirming out from under the bushes, Max stretches and yawns. He can’t remember when he fell asleep, but it doesn’t feel long enough.

  Light is burning though, and he isn’t going to waste it; he has to find his way back… or at the very least food. Using the sunlight, he adjusts more accurately North and continues his trek across this never-ending forest.

  It's been a while since I was last attacked. I think it was sometime yesterday afternoon I ran into another one of those leafy things. I only had to kill two yesterday. Why was I so unlucky the day before when I ran into so many of them? I still am not sure how many there were…. At least twelve, but I think more than that. Well, at least I wasn’t woken up by one again that really sucked. Max looked down at the rock in his hand as he walked.

  I really need to find something better than this rock. I mean, it works great for those leafy guys, but if I run into anything else, anything bigger, I don’t think I want to get close enough to use this. Max looks around as he trudges on and doesn't notice anything that looks dangerous or that he can use as a better weapon.

  Time keeps moving forward, and soon the sun is high in the sky while Max keeps moving North. It doesn’t take long before his march comes to a stop; a cliff face blocks the way. Max can't help but look up and sigh.

  Not North either. Heck with how tall this is, I don’t think it's any direction. Where am I!? How did I get here!? Max kicks the side of the cliff before leaning against it with his back.

  What do I do now? West was all those monsters; north was a cliff, and east was a river. I guess if I went east here, there would probably be a pool at the foot of a waterfall. Maybe I should go that way to get some water. I am thirsty.

  Probably dangerous though the river was long and in the open, but who knows what it will be like this far north, and everything needs to drink. If I go West, I might run into a lot more of those creatures, even up north here, I mean, it's under a day's walk. Plus, I don’t know if there is any water that way.

  I haven’t gone south, but I know there isn’t water for at least a day in that direction, plus whatever ate that creature headed Southwest that might just be asking for trouble. Max sighs and looks up. Up, that's where I should go. Even though it isn’t the way home, it will give me a view of what is around me.

  Maybe I can spot something or someplace and have an idea of where to go, or at least where not to go. This is too steep for me to climb. Heck, I have never even climbed a tree before; there is no way I can climb this cliff. Maybe East or West it gets more climbable, or I can find a path up. So East or West? Monsters West or water East, looks like I'm going east.

  Max looks down at his feet for a minute before pushing himself back up away from the wall and begins moving east. Now, should I stay near this cliff or not? If I'm close to it, things can only really come from the South, but I can also only really run away to the south too… Why does this have to be so complicated? I just want to go home already.

  Max kicks a rock, trying not to tear up. He is just a kid and wants to go to his family, not be stuck out here in the middle of nowhere, fighting weird creatures, trying to survive. Away from the cliff but in sight. I can try to run around anything to the north, then back south, or head south. Gives me a little bit more room to maneuver in case of anything.

  Max walks a little into the tree line, keeping the cliff to his left and in his line of sight. It doesn’t take long before he feels like his decision is right, not because he has to run away from something, but because he finds more of those fruit-bearing bushes from yesterday. After eating more than a few of the berries, Max fills the pockets of his shorts with as many as he can carry.

  He felt unlucky when he first got lost in just shorts, his bare legs being bitten by bugs and scratched by bushes, but now the two extra side pockets seem like a godsend, allowing him to carry a few more berries. Knowing better than to linger near food, Max continues east with a little more spring in his step. Things are starting to look up, even just a little.

  The waterfall is loud, and it is starting to get late in the day. While the day was overly uneventful, Max is starting to get cranky with just being lost still. Luck is on his side still, and when he emerges from the trees, there are no creatures at the little basin. Max makes his way down and cups some water to his lips, drinking more slowly than yesterday.

  It will be dark soon. I haven’t really found any safe place yet. I could head over toward the cliff, but then I'd really be out in the open. I could backtrack Southwest a bit and try to find someplace, but there is no guarantee, and then tomorrow I’d have to head back here anyway, so that doesn’t seem practical. That only really leaves going further East. Max can’t help looking across the basin at the distant side.

  It is calmer here and much safer to cross. It doesn’t look like there is anything in the water either, but it's a good distance across. I could go south where it narrows, but it also speeds up and will be harder to cross. Max begins to mumble to himself and kicks some small rocks around the edge of the basin before heading back into the woods. If he is going to be tired, miserable, and have to find a place to sleep in the time he has left, he might as well do it dry.

  ? ? ?

  Max wakes in a cold sweat, sitting bolt upright. That voice! I know that voice, it’s hers! The same as in the mall! Max looks around before bending down and picking up his rock. He looks around almost frantically before heading off toward the sound of the waterfall. Barely looking out for creatures, Max rushes headlong toward the basin.

  He knows in his heart and head that he couldn’t have possibly actually heard her voice over the sound of the water, but that didn’t matter since he knew she was this way. He doesn’t know how he knows, but he knows. He moves as quickly as he dares in the dim early morning. The basin looks larger in the barely lit world, causing Max to hesitate.

  It came from there! I don’t know how I could have heard it, but I know I did. It came from behind the waterfall. Max begins to walk forward till the cold water spills over his shoes, soaking his feet and ankles, making him think twice. No way I can swim across that far from here, and God only knows what lurks in this water.

  Max turns North and quickly darts along the barely lit shore. His eyes glancing occasionally at the forest to his left, still mildly worried something might be lurking, but getting to the voice is more important than his safety.

  I don’t know how, but it was the same voice. If it is coming from behind the waterfall, maybe there is a way back! When I first arrived here, I didn't hear it anymore, not at all. Then those plant guys showed up, and I had to make a run for it, but I still didn’t hear it. Why can I now? Unless the way I was brought here is connected to this place as well, somehow. If it is connected to both the mall and this waterfall, maybe just maybe I can return home!

  Max is excited and happy, even though in his heart he knows the chance is small, he had to try. This is the first time since he arrived at this hellscape of a forest that there is a chance to go home. No matter how small it is, he has to try.

  Near the cliff, the basin is smaller, but it is more treacherous. Max slows his pace and more carefully picks footings over the sharp, slippery rocks. No matter how careful he is, he still slips a few times, gaining a couple of new scrapes and bruises, but that doesn't matter to him, not now. As he approaches the curtain of water, the mist blocks his vision, but he keeps moving forward, even when he has to move on almost all fours to not slip and fall; he doesn't stop.

  His clothes are soaking, and in the early hours of the morning, it is chilly, but that doesn’t matter; he is so close. He grits his chattering teeth and pushes forward into the cold mist. Seconds seem like minutes, minutes like hours, but he forces his way forward because all that matters is what is behind the curtain of water.