I woke up the next morning to the gentle hum of insects and the soft rustling of leaves in a hidden flower meadow nestled deep in the forest. The events of the past few days felt like a dream, especially the ones from last night—when the bear transformed into Aunt May, her gentle voice, and the warmth of her embrace. For the first time in what seemed like forever, after everything that had happened, I didn't feel entirely alone.
Aunt May's warmth and care reminded me of my mother, who had left us—not because she had passed away, but because she disappeared without a trace after leaving a letter for me and my older sister. The letter said she was tired of my father's constant infidelity and his habit of being with other women besides my mom.
As I opened my eyes wider, I heard Aunt May humming near a campfire she had built at the edge of the flower meadow, not far from where we had slept last night. Her soft voice swirled in my ears, filling me with a sense of happiness and relief. As a child, I had found adults I could rely on.
I glanced at her, crouched near the small fire she had made the night before after felling a large tree. She carefully sifted through the ashes of the charred wood, selecting pieces to use as kindling, ensuring we were shielded from the bone-chilling cold of the night.
Then, she plucked a few flowers from their roots, effortlessly separating the stems from the roots. She cleaned the roots thoroughly, mixed them with ash, and added them to the cold water she had prepared the night before.
Watching her, I thought to myself, "When I grow up, I want to be like her. Like these flowers too. I want to become a strong woman like Aunt May and as beautiful as these blooming flowers. I want to fill the world with smiles—the smiles of those who feel the warmth of companionship, those who feel lonely and tormented. Just like me and Aunt May... a mutant."
Lost in my thoughts, I didn't notice Aunt May stop humming and turn toward me. "Good morning, dear," she greeted me suddenly with a gentle smile, realising I had been watching her from afar. "How are you feeling this morning?"
I tried to sit up, brushing dried flower petals off my arms and hair. "Better, I think. Thank you, Aunt May," I replied softly. My voice was still hoarse, and my throat felt dry.