one day one step : {arrows}

Through the trees, you can just barely see the sun. Still, it beats down, reddening bare shoulders and eliciting sweat from whoever spends a mere hour under it. A setback for others, but not for me. I find myself outside once more, waving off a "Be careful!" from my father. He always worries about me when I'm out and about, but there's really no need for him to worry so much. The worst that could happen right now is a sunburn, I'm sure of it.

Humming to myself, I twirl my way around the trees, admiring the way my skirt flares up. The flowered fabric curls in the wind. I feel like a princess, dancing my way through the tightly packed forest. Wouldn't it be nice to be a princess? I would make my favorite field into my kingdom, and nobody who was mean to me would be let in, ever. And I could wear long, flowy dresses, perhaps even everyday! Caught up in my princess fantasy, I nearly trip over a log, but avoid it at the last second. Gracefully, of course. Princess Camilla is always graceful.

I've been humming under my breath this whole time, but it's quickly morphing into an urge for full blown song. Do I dare? With a quick peek, I notice it's just me around here. Perfect! "Happiness doesn't walk to me, because I'm walking to it.." I begin, crawling over the large log that was in my way. The words roll off the tip of my tongue like it's more natural for me to sing than speak. "One day, one step. Three steps in three days."

The sun continues to strike my skin, heating me up like I'm soup over a fire. I didn't realize how hot it'd gotten. I'm debating turning back home to get a cool glass of water for myself, but I'm sure my parents would inquire as to why I'm home so early. I make the decision to keep walking the path past the log. You know what would make this moment better? Some more princess twirling. I grab the edges of my skirt and spin in a circle. "Three steps forward, two steps back. Life's a one-two punch-"

I'm tumbling head over heels and right onto my knee.

Ouch.

I notice the blood before I notice the pain. Slick, sticky redness streaming down my leg. Ow, ow, ouch. It stings too much to move it, so going home for a bandage is out of the question. Instead, I stay crouched on the grass, clutching the scrape with my hand.