Lost Identity

Not even close to being done... what do people think so far...?

Eyes barely open, as she walks to the sewage vent to throw the remainders of her marlboro red down the drain, she hears the crackling of leaves in the forest in front of her. Whether it was her dangerous curiosity or the endless sleep deprivation, she moved toward the forest. Her motives still remain unclear. She drifted farther and farther into the woods. Each footstep further, she felt more and more lost, undecided on whether she was okay with the uncomfortable vulnerability that followed each step. What she was searching for remained a mystery, but she forced herself to continue on what seemed to be an endless path. Slowly, but then all at once, she felt herself disappearing, as if each second longer in the sunlight she disintegrated into the fall breeze. Perplexed by the idea that the more lost she became, the more comfortable she felt with herself. It was immensely terrifying yet liberating; the way that she believed life was supposed to feel.