The regularity of life in the flower meadow had grown accustomed, yet it was like wrapping oneself in an overly thin blanket: warm but not nearly enough to keep the night's chill. Making sure none of the flowers we had collected were broken and brewing potions were the usual first things Aunt May and I would do when we got up in the morning. Once we finished foraging in the flower meadow, we would head out into the surrounding area in search of edible plants and animals.
We would make sure to get water from the river, encounter monster-like creatures, and collect herbs, flowers, or firewood for the campfire.Nevertheless, concealed behind it all, a steadily expanding void started to establish itself within me.
My sense of detachment from my previous existence grew as my understanding of survival techniques from Aunt May expanded.I sat by the almost extinguished bonfire that morning after a basic breakfast of fruits, veggies, and chicken that Aunt May had boiled (because boiling was the only way to prepare at the time).
The gentle whisper of the morning wind carried the aroma of the wildflowers that surrounded us.
Today, the emptiness seemed more tangible, like a growing chasm in my chest.As she was preparing a remedy, I softly called her name, "Aunt May," almost afraid to disturb her.As I made my way up to Aunt May, I could see her hands deftly chopping flowers, grass, and other materials for the potion.
Even though the early wind brushed against my cheeks, I was still burdened by a gloomy heart. I waited a second, observing her intently as she worked. I slowly started to say, "Aunt May," searching for the correct words. "Are you ever homesick for the past?" With her hands suspended in the air, Aunt May paused for an instant.
Though a hint of fatigue was visible on her face, Aunt May turned just enough to meet my eyes gently. Her voice was quiet but profound as she paused to collect herself before speaking. "Um, really?" Feeling a little uneasy, I dipped my head. "Is there anything you long for from a bygone era?" In the past, before this whole thing?As if mentally screening my query, Aunt May continued to stare at me for a little while longer.
Her face was somewhat tense, but her eyes were soft and filled with an emotion I couldn't pinpoint—as if she had been carrying around a heavy weight all this time."Certainly," she finally responded. "Much has slipped my mind. Details like waking up to the aroma of freshly brewed coffee or hearing my son running around in the yard are as important to me as my loved ones and my house."
Attempting to picture Aunt May's life before the transformation, I went silent. However, the picture was so abstract that it was almost like a dream—something I had never felt before. "What we leave behind isn't necessarily the most important thing in life," she went on to say to me. In order to stay alive, we must sometimes face truth. "Otherwise, we risk becoming stuck in the past, where we will be unable to go forward." With a twinge of shame, I dipped my head once again.
The weight of her remarks was palpable simply by listening to them.To be honest, I also missed my previous life—my friends, my school, and even the annoyingly constant city noise. On the other hand, I was also aware that things had changed in this world.
I'm telling Aunt May about my current feeling, "Sometimes I feel scared," I could barely control my shaking voice. "I am terrified that I will never be able to return."