Zahra Adoette WIP

A girl that belongs to the forest does not keep up with time, for age is not of the utmost importance - more like the incapability to count. Survival is the main thing on a wanderer's mind, mostly when they have been spotted, or assumptions have been made of their whereabouts. It's hard to know who to run from, though, when all connections from the outside world (Or rather the inside, since being cut off from everything assures you a place as an outsider) are cut off. Maybe this is the reason why I have begun to find myself drawing closer to the area behind the fence. The place with all of the tall things stretching up from the ground like the trees that tower above me. The place that looks so eerily familiar to me.

I have always been one with the forest, the wind that rattles through the trees seeming to be the hand of the mother that I once had, combing through the years of matted black hair.