Trees.
Dirt.
White mist.

Everything swirls around me with great gusts of wind and rain, making me lose my sense of direction. The sheets of water pound on my back, and my long, loose hair whips my face. Suddenly I feel weak. Too weak to move. I call out her name, but my voice seems to be tugged away with the great medley of voices the storm is emitting. She can’t hear me. What now?

I see a cave.

I stumble towards the dark opening, the weight of my loaded, soggy backpack almost unbearable. I try to run but all I get is a slightly faster walk. Pushing against the rain’s resistance is hard. My weary body can’t support my weight. I completely exerted myself on the hike.

And the thing is, it had happened so fast. The trip, the hike… the storm.

That’s what’s nagging at me.

Roots and branches snag at my clothes, tearing at my skin, and I collapse. I think that maybe I won’t get up. The rain is so heavy now, and my body feels so, so light. Maybe I’ll just be blown away with the wind.

I’m going to die.