Bab 112: 112. The forest

"Explain. Tell me everything you know." The voice lured me into speaking about the chaotic thoughts, feelings, and emotions that were inside me, partly accessible, partly not, partly presenting themselves, partly rejected by me.

But the moment I was asked where it was that I came from, where the original me emerged from, where I was born from, I could answer it clearly; it was the forest.

"I remember not being alone, and we moved. Like in here…" The memory wasn't threatening—easy to talk about because I was not me who spoke; these lips moving were not mine; my listener was not from my own world.

"A car?" The voice asked casually, but I could hear care and concern in it.

"Yes."

"Someone drove you somewhere?"

"Yes." I nodded.

"Then there was, the places moved, and something changed."

The voice hummed.

"You left the car."

"Yes, and then I didn't feel well; I wanted to roll up, and my body shook."

"You were cold?"