"Despite what everyone says, the world is incredibly lovely" was a concept that I constantly entertained. I frequently entertained this idea. However, there are moments when the world can be especially cruel. This is something that should be observed.

This was the mindset that I carried with me after I was kicked, and I anticipated nothing but death at the hands of the very individuals who had surrounded me in the past. And I was right. A question that I couldn't help but ask myself was, "Why does this only happen to people like me, those who are infected with the curse?" I couldn't help but stop myself from asking myself this question.

I was seized with a mixture of frustration and rage as my mind raced with ideas of unfairness. I felt frustrated by the situation. Anyone who is plagued with this curse should not be punished or sentenced to death; rather, they should be cured. It is not suitable to do either of those things. We have been transformed into weird beings, which are essentially shadows of what we were in the past. What does it mean that we are deserving of hatred simply because we have been transformed into ourselves? It is possible that this suggests that we ought to be exterminated like vermin, dumped as if we no longer had the right to exist. Is this a possibility?

While I was making my way through a dense and seemingly impenetrable forest, I noticed that I was stumbling through it, with each step being weak and shaky. My voice was cracked and raw, but tears were streaming down my face as I cried out into the forest, which was utterly silent. I was unable to contain my emotions. Even worse, I did not care where I was going because I had no idea where I was going. On the other hand, I had no intention of doing anything other than moving, and the only thing that was driving my body was the urge to run away.

"Mom... Dad... Gia... Susu..." My words were so garbled that they were almost impossible to understand when I shouted out in desperation from the depths of my heart. "I am very worried... I am completely and utterly exhausted... Please put an end to this; I want to die and put an end to this already. I implore you... I need your aid... please... Oh my God, please put an end to this now. I allowed the words to flow out of my mouth, over and over again! a begging for forgiveness that was answered with indifference in the midst of the overwhelming nothingness that was the circumstance. "No one responded to me; even the gods wanted to get rid of me."

The feeling of solitude became even more unpleasant as a result of the brief moment of silence that followed, but it did nothing but perpetuate the cycle. During the time that I was uttering my cries once more, this time with a higher volume, the sound of my misery rebounded through the trees. During the time that I was wandering around aimlessly, I had no purpose, no objective, and no hope about my future.

All of this took place in such a short amount of time. It was impossible for me to comprehend all that had happened, including the betrayal and the curse, at that point in time. "Is this my fate?" With each passing minute, this was an idea that kept coming to me, and I couldn't stop pondering about it. Also, I couldn't stop thinking about it. "Do I have to accept this?"

...

There is no longer any relevance to time. I limped forward as I made my way into the woods, where I had no food, no drink, and no sense of time or location. I was completely lost throughout the entire journey. There were streaks of dirt and grime marking every inch of my skin everywhere, and my clothes were torn. My body was covered with blood, and there were bloodstains over my clothes. There were some scars that were fresh, while others were old, and they were evidence of the mayhem that I had been through before their appearance. Despite the fact that my vision was becoming more and more murky, I persisted in moving forward with my journey.

Through the act of ripping at my hair, it seemed as though the individuals were attempting to rip away the very last remnant of my humanity. On the other hand, I did not stop. In spite of the fact that I had no idea where I was going, my feet led me deeper into the thickest portion of the forest, driving me further away from the life that I had been accustomed to in the past. Could you tell me how long I had been walking for? I will not be able to respond. For how much longer am I going to be able to tolerate this? The fact was unknown to me. My motivation came from something that was buried deep within me; it was a drive to escape and a desire to live. I continued to go forward via this process.

...

After what seemed like an eternity had passed, I was at last fortunate enough to be able to hear it. The sound of water running, which is barely audible but carries a tremendous deal of significance despite its apparent simplicity. Due to the fact that my voice was so weak and small, it was difficult for it to release from my mouth. "Wa-ter... fi... na-ly..."

I had been wandering around in the vast desert by myself for a considerable amount of time, but I couldn't possibly recall how long it had been. The never-ending trees, the dark shadows, and the silence that was only broken by the distant call of birds or the rustle of leaves had all become a part of my reality. I had become accustomed to all of these things. During the time that I was in this isolated region, I followed the sound of the river, which was the only clue that there was evidence of life. In spite of the fact that my legs were trembling and my body was on the verge of collapse, I continued to move around.

At long last, I had arrived at a small meadow that was hidden from view and was encircled by trees that were so dense that they gave the impression of forming a wall around it. On this occasion, the sound of the water was more audible, and the air was free of any contaminants. After my legs gave way beneath me, I was unable to continue standing, and I ended up falling to the ground. Having said that, I had the opportunity to experience something other than hopelessness for the very first time in what seemed like an eternity. There is a glimmer of hope, which is comparable to a sliver of light in the background of the night sky.

Then, I woke up after remembered if I was passed out, I find I’m in the middle of a blossoming meadow. The sound of flowing water reached my ears, and I instinctively began to walk towards it, my steps slow and unsteady. I had no idea how long I’d been unconscious or how much time had passed since I last stumbled through the forest. As I awoke, I scanned my surroundings, noticing the vibrant flowers in full bloom, their colors stark against the darkness of the forest. Tall trees loomed overhead, blocking out most of the moonlight, casting the area in a cloak of shadow. The air was cool, and the night felt heavy with the kind of silence only found deep in the woods.

My gaze shifted forward, and I froze in place. A large bear was walking towards me. Its enormous form was terrifying, and I couldn’t move, as if my body had been paralyzed by the sheer fear of its approach. My heart pounded in my chest as the distance between us closed, yet I remained rooted to the spot, overwhelmed by dread.

But then, something unexpected happened—the bear began to shift, its form rippling like water, its fur melting away until an adult female human stood before me. She was wearing clothes that, like mine, were tattered and covered in dirt and blood. Her hair, long and matted, framed her face, which held a soft but weary expression. It was clear she, too, had suffered, just like me.

The woman—who I now realized was a mutant like me—extended her hand, holding a coconut shell filled with water. I didn’t hesitate. My parched throat begged for relief, and without a second thought, I drank deeply. The cool liquid flowed through me, soothing my dry mouth and giving me a brief moment of strength. I could feel the dehydration slipping away, even if only for a while.

She looked at me with kind, understanding eyes, her voice gentle as she spoke. "How are you feeling now, little girl?"

I didn’t have the strength to answer verbally, so I merely nodded slightly, acknowledging her kindness.

"Thank God," she murmured, relief evident in her tone. "I was worried you might die from dehydration."

She sat down beside me, her gaze distant as she spoke again, "I usually boil water from the river, using whatever tools nature provides. But food is harder to come by. We’ll have to make do with what we have. We can survive for a while, but it’s not easy."

I stayed silent, taking in her words as I looked at her—this strange, yet comforting woman who seemed to be my only ally in this desolate world. Her body was covered in blood and dirt, much like mine. Her clothes were shredded and barely hanging together, yet there was a strength in her that I couldn’t deny.

She seemed to sense my confusion and uncertainty. "Maybe we're just unlucky, little one," she said with a sigh, "But you know, if you’re ever scared or lonely, you can cuddle with me. We’re both cursed, and I know how hard it is, especially for someone so young. But you're not alone."

I felt a small measure of comfort in her words, though I didn’t know how to respond. The silence between us felt heavy, yet somehow it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was as if, in this moment, we were sharing something deeper than just words.

The woman smiled kindly at me, as if she understood the silence. "By the way," she said, "My name is May. May Ginmberth. It's nice to meet you, little girl."

I gathered the strength to speak, my voice barely a whisper. "May? Aunt May, I... I’m sorry..."

Aunt May’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Sorry? For what, little one? For me helping you? Don’t worry about it."

She chuckled softly, a warm sound that felt oddly reassuring. "You don’t need to apologize. Our situation is the same, after all. We help each other because that's what humans do. Don’t stress over it."

Her words, though simple, had a weight to them that settled deep in my chest. It was a reminder that, in this cruel world, the kindness of strangers could be a lifeline.

Aunt May helped me sit up and gently lifted me into her arms, her strength surprising but comforting. She hummed a soft, slow melody as she held me, her voice smooth and soothing. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, I allowed myself to relax in her embrace, listening to the sound of her voice—a lullaby in the midst of chaos.

As I rested there, my body exhausted from the trials I had faced, I managed to speak again. "Auntie, my name is... Jia. Jia Katiana."

At the mention of my name, Aunt May paused her humming. Her eyes softened with recognition, and she asked, "Katiana? Are you the daughter of Mr. Dickey, the property conglomerate?"

I nodded, though my heart felt heavy. "Yes… But now... Dad is bankrupt, and Mom left us..." My voice cracked as I remembered the pain of those days—the days when everything had fallen apart. "Because of me... because I mutated... I think that's why everything went wrong..."

Aunt May turned me around in her arms, her hand gently caressing my head. She kissed my forehead softly and whispered, "It's not your fault, Jia. It’s those who cast us aside, those who caused our suffering. We're just victims of this curse. You need to be strong, little one."

Her words were like a balm to my raw heart. I wanted to believe her, to find comfort in her reassurance, but the pain of my past was hard to shake.

Still, I found myself asking, "But why? Why did God let this happen to us? Why are we cursed?"

Aunt May thought for a moment before speaking. "From my perspective, Jia, maybe it's because we're strong. This curse... this disaster is heavy. But only strong people are chosen to endure it. We are strong because we have to be."

Her words sunk into me, and though my tears didn’t stop, they slowly began to dry. I wasn’t sure I fully understood, but for the first time, I felt a flicker of something other than despair. Maybe there was strength in surviving this, in enduring this hardship.

Aunt May smiled, her warmth never wavering. "Your father must be so proud of you. I can see the intelligence and maturity in you. He’s lucky to have you."

A small, bitter smile tugged at my lips. "Thank you, Auntie May."

She gently set me back down on her lap, humming again as the night stretched on. We sat there, wrapped in the warmth of each other’s presence, the quiet comfort of companionship settling between us.

The night grew colder as the hours passed, and both of our stomachs rumbled in protest. The lack of food was beginning to weigh heavily on us, but there was little we could do. We had to make do with the boiled river water Aunt May had managed to gather.

As the air turned colder still, Aunt May pulled me closer to her, wrapping her arms around me protectively. "Stay close, Jia. I’m going to make a campfire."

I nodded weakly, feeling the chill seep deeper into my bones. "Okay, Auntie May."

She stood up, her movements graceful and strong despite her weariness. She walked to the edge of a flower meadow, where she began to strike a nearby tree with her powerful body. The sound of the blows resonated in the still night air, and I watched in awe as the tree finally toppled, falling to the ground with a heavy thud.

Aunt May was strong—stronger than I had ever expected. She picked up the pieces of the tree, breaking them into smaller chunks, and my amazement only grew. "Wow, Aunt May! You’re incredible! Did you used to go to the gym or something?" I asked, my voice full of awe.

She looked up at me, a grin tugging at her lips. "Oh, no, no, my dear. I don’t go to the gym. I spent most of my time taking care of my family. Cooking, cleaning, taking care of my husband and son... just like your mother, I’m sure."

I was taken aback by her words. "But how are you so strong then, Auntie?"

Aunt May smiled knowingly. "We’ll talk about that later, dear. Let me just finish setting this up."

She carried the wood to a safe spot away from the meadow, and I couldn’t help but feel a sense of awe and gratitude. In a world that had shown me nothing but cruelty, Aunt May was a beacon of strength and kindness.

And maybe—just maybe—I could learn to find strength within myself too.

I woke up the next morning to the gentle hum of insects and the soft rustling of leaves in a hidden flower meadow nestled deep in the forest. The events of the past few days felt like a dream, especially the ones from last night—when the bear transformed into Aunt May, her gentle voice, and the warmth of her embrace. For the first time in what seemed like forever, after everything that had happened, I didn't feel entirely alone.

Aunt May's warmth and care reminded me of my mother, who had left us—not because she had passed away, but because she disappeared without a trace after leaving a letter for me and my older sister. The letter said she was tired of my father's constant infidelity and his habit of being with other women besides my mom.

As I opened my eyes wider, I heard Aunt May humming near a campfire she had built at the edge of the flower meadow, not far from where we had slept last night. Her soft voice swirled in my ears, filling me with a sense of happiness and relief. As a child, I had found adults I could rely on.

I glanced at her, crouched near the small fire she had made the night before after felling a large tree. She carefully sifted through the ashes of the charred wood, selecting pieces to use as kindling, ensuring we were shielded from the bone-chilling cold of the night.

Then, she plucked a few flowers from their roots, effortlessly separating the stems from the roots. She cleaned the roots thoroughly, mixed them with ash, and added them to the cold water she had prepared the night before.

Watching her, I thought to myself, "When I grow up, I want to be like her. Like these flowers too. I want to become a strong woman like Aunt May and as beautiful as these blooming flowers. I want to fill the world with smiles—the smiles of those who feel the warmth of companionship, those who feel lonely and tormented. Just like me and Aunt May... a mutant."

Lost in my thoughts, I didn't notice Aunt May stop humming and turn toward me. "Good morning, dear," she greeted me suddenly with a gentle smile, realising I had been watching her from afar. "How are you feeling this morning?"

I tried to sit up, brushing dried flower petals off my arms and hair. "Better, I think. Thank you, Aunt May," I replied softly. My voice was still hoarse, and my throat felt dry.

"Drink this," Aunt May said, handing me a cup made from a Pabu fruit filled with herbal concoction. "It's bitter, but it will help restore your strength."

I examined the Pabu cup for a moment before taking a sip. Its shape was irregular, with slightly rough edges and parts that looked hastily cut, much like the coconut shell cups she had used yesterday. The carvings on its surface were simple scratches, more like idle doodles than deliberate designs. Even so, the cup served its purpose. I smiled slightly, imagining Aunt May's lack of carving skills but admiring her remarkable resourcefulness in utilising whatever was around her.

I accepted the cup and cautiously took a sip. It tasted as unpleasant as she had warned, but I forced myself to swallow. "What's in it?"

"Just a few plants I've learnt about over the years," she answered calmly. Her gaze drifted to the vibrant flowers surrounding us. "This flower meadow is full of secrets, if you know where to look."

Curiosity began to stir within me, and I raised an eyebrow as I looked at Aunt May. The sound of a small stream in the distance mingled with the gentle hum of insects, creating a natural harmony that enveloped the meadow. The sweet aroma of wildflowers filled the air, accompanying our conversation. I shifted my position, seeking comfort on the ground covered in a carpet of colourful little flowers. "Secrets? Like what?" I asked, trying to suppress my growing curiosity, though my voice remained frail and raspy from everything I'd endured.

Aunt May turned to me, the corners of her lips curving into a small, meaningful smile. Her eyes sparkled, as if holding something only she knew. Her soft laugh was like a whisper of wind playing with the flower petals around us. Slowly, she stood, brushing off leaves clinging to her simple skirt. "Come, I'll show you," she said, extending her hand toward me. Her voice was gentle yet filled with conviction, as if what she was about to show me was something truly precious. I followed her movements with hopeful eyes, my curiosity now turning into an irresistible excitement.

She led me along a winding path through the flower meadow, pointing out various plants along the way and explaining their uses—some for healing, others for food, and a few so dangerous they were best avoided entirely. I listened intently, amazed at her knowledge. It felt as if the meadow and the dense forest were alive, whispering their secrets to those willing to hear without disturbing them.

We stopped near a towering tree. "This is an Iyadris tree," Aunt May said, patting its trunk before continuing, "It can be cut down for firewood, housing, or whatever else we need, but you must be cautious. Some trees in this forest have defence mechanisms. If you choose the wrong one, its trunk will harden, breaking your tools—or even your hands."

After ensuring the tree was safe, she struck its trunk with her bare hands, breaking it into smaller pieces. Her movements were precise, as if she had done it thousands of times. Yet, as she had told me last night, Aunt May was just a 'housewife.' She explained that her strength was a result of the mutation that had turned her into a 'bear.' I could only watch in awe, marvelling at her power.

We continued our journey to a small stream flowing at the meadow's edge. I helped fill a few empty Pabu fruits with water, along with gathering fruits and vegetables, while observing the rainbow-coloured flowers on the opposite bank.

Aunt May noticed me staring at the flowers and called out, "What is it, Jia?"

She paused to fill the Pabu fruits with water and small fruits, seeds, and vegetables, turning them into baskets for carrying the supplies we had collected—much like grocery bags for a trip to the supermarket. "Those flowers are called Moondrakes," she said, pointing to the blooms on the far side of the stream. "Beautiful, aren't they? But don't touch them. Their pollen can put you to sleep for days—or sometimes, people never wake up."

Aunt May frowned slightly as she spoke. "Honestly, when I found you yesterday, you seemed exhausted and on the brink of collapse. But there was another factor—I suspect you touched them while wandering aimlessly through the forest. Your legs were coated with their pollen. Don't worry; I applied an antidote to your legs before you woke up last night."

I instinctively stepped back, startled by her revelation. "Why does something like that even exist?"

Aunt May's expression darkened. "Everything in this world has its purpose, even dangerous things. Sometimes, I think this curse is the same. Cruel and merciless, yet perhaps it's meant to teach us something."