The first time I saw her, I couldn't breathe. She literally took all the sources of oxygen from the depths of my lungs, and I was feeling the lack of oxygen. My soul was attached, and I knew I was trapped. My soul was forever bound; my heart was drawn forever. What was she, or who was she? She was nothing I had never seen before. So I followed her.
The mountains became valleys; the valleys became mountains. The hills became fields; the fields became forests. The burning sensation of the past was felt when I set foot, through the current of the river flowing between the two high mountains I had to cross to reach her soon. I have to fight against the extreme cold of the snow cap, immerse myself in the comfort and beauty of the flowers that grew in millions and many colors. And then I was there.
The trees become skyrocketing, no longer a small woodland but an irresistible forest. It was bright green, something my eyes had never seen before. It could be a trick on the eyes, an illusion of the sun, but I knew better. It was no game; there was no dancing between the reflection of color and the flashing of light. It was her place, her secret abode, her home.
Though containing the external beauty, it was in no way, which is not analogous to its exaggeration. Upon entering, the first feeling that overwhelmed me was the smell. Everything had a scent, each unique and each decided to be known. Flowers blossomed in every corner; The chirping of birds filled the atmosphere with peaceful music.
The power of the waterfall created a humble spirit, yet there was peace in my veins. It was so quiet that I could hear a spider dash across the grass, yet so loudly I couldn't tell the difference between the crunch of the leaves beneath my shoe and the rustling of the leaves over my head. The air blended with the pattern of my breathing as if it had somehow risen into my body and discovered the secret of my soul and wanted to reassure me that it would never reveal to me what I was or why I was here.
There were many paths, each designed for a specific destination, and each destination was unknown to the participant, completely unknown. Choosing which one to take is a task in itself. There were different colored stones for each path; a different color rose for the fence, and another colored butterfly for the guide was decorative. My soul was agitated; a whisper danced under my lips and my throat, finding its way to my main artery, from where it began to spread confidence in my system. My answer was; The second path from the right, the direction of the blue butterfly.
