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something. Perhaps even then I knew the stark reality of my forgotten past, buried deep in my subconscious as it struggled to break free.
    I scrutinized my surroundings and narrowed my eyes in concentration, looking for anything out of the ordinary. Although nothing appeared out of place, something was off. I didn’t know how, but it was as if I knew deep down in the bottom of my core that I wasn’t alone.
    Someone was waiting for me.
    At that exact thought, a loud noise suddenly erupted from within the darkness of the forest, startling me. I quickly looked back toward the orphanage to see if anyone else had heard the strange sound, but nothing seemed out of place. Children outside played as if they didn’t have a care in the world. They were too busy making snowmen and angels to pay any attention to anything except for what was right in front of them.
    I glanced back at the forest, my face peering intently through the fence, waiting to hear any further noise. I held my breath in anticipation but released it regretfully as nothing greeted me but silence. I was just about to give up and turn back toward the orphanage when—
    I heard it again.
    My head whipped in the direction of the forest, eyes narrowed suspiciously. I tilted my head to the side and closed my eyes as I tried to conjure up an image of what I was actually hearing. It was almost like a cry for help, one that only I seemed to be able to hear. It pierced my core so deeply that my heart felt heavy from the ache and tears unexpectedly formed at the corner of my eyes. Whatever it was, it called out to me, as if we somehow had a special link or bond of some sort.
    I had no other choice but to follow the sound that captivated me.
    Instantly releasing the fence, I ignored my stiff, frozen hands as I dropped down onto the snow-covered ground. I looked for any type of opening where I could squeeze my body through. There, at the bottom of the fence, I found a small gap about the size of two fists. A few of the metal bars bent upward, perhaps damaged by an animal wanting to break through. As I stretched out my bare hands toward it, I began to dig away as much of the snow covering the area, ignored the numbness developing in my fingers.
    The hole was finally large enough so I stopped and took off my red winter coat, dropping it onto the ground. The coat would have made it much more difficult to pass through such a tiny space, probably hooking into the bottom of the fence.
    I wore nothing but a knitted red sweater and black jeans.
    Getting back down onto my knees, I forced my small body through the opening. I tediously made my way forward on my stomach and elbows until I was finally on the other side. Standing up, I gazed back toward the fence and stared at the orphanage through the barrier.
    It was strange being on the opposite side of the confinements—almost freeing in a way. Many children gathered outside and I breathed a sigh of relief knowing no one would miss me. Then I raised my eyes to the sky and saw the glaring sun burn even brighter than when I had first woken up. Had the air not have been so frigid, the snow would have melted against the rays.
    I turned my head, looking in the direction of the woods once more. All of a sudden, a gust of wind crashed into my body as my hair flew in disarray, moving it away from my face. It was a force so powerful that it took everything inside of me to remain standing as I tried to stay planted to the ground, but not before staggering back a few times.
    Had anybody else had been there, they would have been slightly alarmed at what they saw in my eyes.
    The moment finally passed and I was then able to move again toward the forest. I knew no one saw me leave. The only sign of my existence being the footprints left behind by my oversized boots in the snow, and my red coat that blanketed the ground like a large splatter of blood.
    Little did I know how symbolic the image would be.
    I walked until I was deep within the forest. The