• ONE •
He didn’t remember exactly where he was before he had a body, but he definitely remembered where he was when he became aware he was now inside a body.
The harder he tried to remember before , though, the further it seemed to slip away. He had to have known at one time— he remembers there was a “one time,” doesn’t he? Why was it now cruelly held captive at the edge of his awareness, taunting and teasing his muffled soul?
His awareness. That’s another thing he now found frustrating, though he cannot quite explain why, if asked.
Before, there were no limitations on his awareness. Had there been any restrictions then? It seems there used to be a time when he was not so confined in his senses. Things were different then— weren’t they? It’s so difficult to tell now.
One thing he did know: he did not belong here. He was not from this place, he was not made for this place, he did not belong in this place. He was sure of it.
But to this place he had come.
His first awareness came from above. He was in a tree, clinging for dear life to the highest, thinnest branch that would support his weight without snapping and sending him tumbling into the hands of the angry throng below.
Dear life? He supposed life was dear, even if it was not his own life. But this was his life, wasn’t it? Had it always been? No, there had been something else, before. Yet he reacted as if this was his own life, in this moment.
Looking down on the crowd screaming for him sent waves of tense electricity through his body. His every muscle seemed to tighten around the slender branch more than should have been possible for this body. Had this always been his body? He thinks it has been. And these Others with their twisted faces and boiling eyes wanted him to come down, wanted him to do something, wanted to do something to him!
A new shock went through his system, and shivers began tormenting his body uncontrollably. What was this sensation? He looked to the sky as a wetness filled his eyes. The brightness on the large cloud drifting by blurred into the sparkling of jewels overhead. A darkened speck moving across the glare grew larger, came closer, took shape. It was an animal, flying. Bird, his mind named it as it appeared to be coming to rest in his tree, then changed its mind and veered away at the last second. The wetness rolled down his cheek as his body continued to shake. Tears. Crying. Crying because the bird flew away, or because he was stuck in a tree? Stuck in a tree, or being chased by a mob?
Tremors that were not from his body entered his awareness. A cry escaped him, the sound of his own voice startling as he looked down to find his tree was now being hit by two separate men in the crowd. Swinging heavy sticks with sharp metal attached, they took turns chopping into what little sense of safety he had.
Panic gripped his body at a new level. What were they going to do to him? Why were they doing this? What was going to happen? What would become of his body? How was he going to get away? He needed this body— his body! What would he do if he lost it? What would become of him?
The cracking of wood accompanied a disorientation in his awareness. The limb began moving, though his own limbs did not. His tree tumbled over, its roots left behind.
And Lam fell to earth.
• TWO •
Pressing his hand to the tree for support, Lam doubled over and gasped for air. His heart was unaware his legs had stopped running, and continued to run in circles within its cage of ribs. The blood pounded in his ears so loudly he was sure his pursuers would be able to hear it, and find him again.
The crowd had forgotten their anger long enough to split frantically and avoid being crushed by his falling tree. Lam had landed hard, flat on his back. It had knocked the wind from his lungs, but he’d recovered quickly and scrambled into a run as the gap between him and the Others swiftly closed. He hadn’t even had to think about it.
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