Even though I truly thought my whole existence was meant to bring my parents happiness and pride, I came upon the realization, after nearly facing death, my desire for their appreciation of my existence was disguised as my aspiration to find purpose in the life I was born into. However, in my younger years, specifically at the tender age of twelve, I thought that maybe—just maybe—if they were happy and proud with me, then life would not be as hard as it was on a daily basis.

  I considered the weight of all my problems were based on my parents’ happiness, as children so unfortunately often do. Hence, I desired to be their sole source of uplifter-of-spirits with my extensive endeavors. I thought beautiful flowers found growing in the sunny spots of the forest were enough. When a shiny stone caught my attention, I imagined the smile my mother would display when I presented it to her. As I watched little frogs jump along the damp trail after a heavy rainfall, I wondered if the tiny green animal would be enough to see my father’s eyes soften. If these enchanting objects brought me happiness, then certainly the wondrous items would do the same for my parents?

  Oh—how wrong I was on such childish resolutions.

  “Lillie! You terror!” my mother yelled while pointing a terrified finger at me. “Get that thing out of here!” A slimy frog jumped across the rickety kitchen table I had just placed it on. It hopped over the wooden plates, leaving little sticky footprints in its effort to escape. It jumped near the edge before I grabbed it, and I stuffed it back into my skirt pocket while my mother continued shrieking about the innocent tree frog, insisting that it would ruin us all with disease, followed by a formidable demise.

  “Stop tormenting your mother!” my father shouted as he entered the room. “You should be ashamed of yourself, young lady!” I ran out of the house, climbing the stairs spiraling to the upper structures above my condensed neighborhood. Tears streamed down my face and my heart ached. I returned the frog to his little home high above in the trees. He lived in a little hollow notch inside one of the cedar trees that would pool with water whenever it rained, providing a pleasant living arrangement for the little tree frog.

  “Don’t take it too personally,” I said to the small creature who settled into its home. “They just don’t know you very well.” My aching heart hoped the frog would smile or respond with a cute voice. It simply splashed around in the water, wiping its eyes with its slimy limbs, blinking idly.

  I wiped the tears from my cheeks, apathetic towards my grimy hands. I wandered back down the spiraling cob stairs, passing my house, which was the second home from the ground. I entered the stone street, and walked mindlessly away from my neighborhood, far away from the towering buildings. The city was located deep in the Great Cedar Forest. It was built integrated throughout the trees and its branching system. Wooden structures, occasionally with stone or cob, were built on top of another, bridges connected from above, and stone streets wove through the complex city.

  For me, it was my home and all I ever knew. I knew where the streets led, or where I could escape from it all, far away from the wooden buildings crowding the area. I often loved to wander outside the bustling borough, into the the cedar forest that encircled the outskirts. Following the path I knew that led to an abandoned exit from the city, I saw the archway that was overgrown, covered by ivy and ferns. I slipped through the arch, stepping over the flourishing greenery, preferring that exit to stay mysterious and unused.

  I imagined it as a magical portal into a world only I knew. Other kids were not brave enough to leave the city and enter the forest without a parent; most parents weren’t willing to take their children. The path through the trees was narrow, but relaxing for my younger self. I often looked for untraveled paths, or unexplored areas of the forest surrounding my hometown. I wanted to feel free from the hustle of the city. The forest always made me feel welcomed, as if it was the only place in my little world that accepted me for who I was.

  That particular path weaved through the trees, extending far away from the city. Although I typically only traveled a short distance, turning back whenever I imagined the disdaining call of my parents and their immediate disapproval of my mindless wandering, on that particular day, I did not care about their opinion, especially as their loud voices echoed in my head. I kept following the path through the forest, and I embraced the excitement of traveling further away from home. They were already angry with me about the frog—how worse could it be?

  A break from the forest lay ahead as a light at the end of the path beamed brightly. While living under the canopy of dense trees and towering buildings, I did not often see bright lights, only the light of lanterns and fires within homes, and the occasional break of sunlight within the forest. That light was new, different, and exciting. At the end of the trail, I entered a wide open area with grass and flowers; the sun was high above, casting its light and warmth directly on my skin. A strong wind moved the grass in a rippling effect, and little insects whirled around.

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  “Now, this is cool!” I shouted while spreading my arms wide. I walked further into the meadow and spun around in pure bliss. I felt free to move about, running, doing cartwheels, and movements I had done dozens of time but only on the stone ground.

  When my hands landed on the soft grass, I wanted to continue as it felt soft and invigorating, unlike the dirty stone streets in the city. I continued spinning, cartwheeling, but eventually I became dizzy and fell over, laughing to myself. Everything sounded different and exhilarating. I rolled around in the grass, then suddenly stopped. I quickly stood up, examining the scenery around me. Behind the giant trees stood a massive mountain range. I could see an impressive snowy area cover its rocky edges. The highest peaks disappeared behind stormy clouds. My eyes followed the mountains to the left, staggering impressively through the area, and as my eyes examined its ongoing range, I had completely turned around.

  Looking down, I noticed a steep drop off and a gust of wind blew my brown hair around in my face. My eyes widened as I gazed upon the cliffside that fell to vast valleys below. I held my breath in awe of the open area below me and all around. Various shades of green covered the valleys below with grasslands and forests. Shimmering waters reflected the sun as it weaved through the trees. I felt tears well in my eyes as the mere beauty of the large world lay before me for the very first time.

  “This place is amazing!” I said out loud. I had seen some mountains before, but not from the open perspective I had luckily stumbled upon that day. I had traveled by foot to a lake north of the city, which supposedly was at the foot of some mountains. But the trail had been mostly covered by trees, and made it difficult to see anything other than small glimpses of the larger terrain surrounding my world. The clearing on the cliffside allowed me a whole new perspective; an expansion of scenery I could have never imagined.

  I did not stay for much longer, but I did return as often as I could. The meadow became my favorite place to be, especially when distraught. If my parents yelled at me, I would escape into the grassy land. If the neighbor kids were bullying me, I would run as fast as I could to feel safe in that open area. Initially, I dared not share my secret location with anyone. However, my lonely heart felt a strong desire to share with someone my special place.

  “Don’t you wish we could play Pocket-Ball on grass instead of the streets?” I once asked my neighbor Thabias. We were playing our favorite game with the other neighbor kids in the street in front of our homes. We had to move to the side to let other adults walk through. Sometimes the adults would yell at us, others would purposefully walk slowly or run over our feet with their carts, just to torment us for no good reason.

  “Yeah, that would be nice,” Thabias replied. “But, I don’t have any rich friends.” I looked at him as I opened my mouth, ready to expose my secret. “I only have stupid neighbors, like you.”

  “I’m not stupid!” I yelled, changing my thoughts. He stuck his tongue out and ran to the other side of the street where the other neighbor kids stood. I wanted to punch his little face, force him to take back his mean comment.

  I almost told him about my meadow. That would have been stupid of me…

  I never did punch Thabias, although we did get into some physical wrestling fights at times whenever he would bully me or try to take what was rightfully mine. I stopped playing with him and the others after always feeling hurt during our playtime. As much as I disliked him and others who bullied me, I could not bring myself to hate them. I did not know why, other than I felt sorry for all of them—for all of us.

  I wanted to share my meadow and forest walks with the others, but most often I was called a freak, or stupid, or other mean names. I wished for a friend; someone who appreciated me and liked the same things as I did. I was quite lonely at times. I tried making friends with little frogs, but they never did speak back to me. I tried talking with birds, but they often flew away after realizing I had no scraps of food to share. I began picking flowers and grass, stuffing as much as I could into my rather filthy skirt pocket. When I gifted my treasures in hopes to make friends, people often sneered or completely ignored me, tossing the delicate petals to the side.

  “You need to make yourself useful and actually bring back edible plants,” my mother told me after I handed her a handful of wildflowers I had picked from the meadow.

  “But, maybe these are edible,” I replied while looking down at the pink and yellow flowers. “And—uh, I don’t know what is okay to eat and what isn’t.”

  “Just look for more than just grass and flowers,” she continued and turned her nose up at my arrangement. “Those flowers are useless to us as a family. Look for seeds, or roots that we can possibly eat.”

  “Okay—I can do that!” I exclaimed, thinking about all the plants I had already seen in the forest that looked similar to foods we often ate from the farmlands. I felt excited to finally do something useful for my mother, despite my lack of knowledge as a mere child.

  Maybe she would want to come with me to the forest?

  I began my quest to find edible plants outside of the city. I did not know exactly what was edible or poisonous, but I decided to worry about that later. My mother was an excellent cook, capable of whipping up anything eatable into a delicious meal. Food was difficult to manage at times, even if I did not fully understand at my younger age. But I knew it was stressful on my mother and father, and they often fought about it.

  For me, all I wanted to do was make my them happy and fight less. I brought home as many plants, berries, and roots as I thought resembled something familiar to our own cultivated foods. Some things were a success, others caused dismay. Either way, I was doing something for my mother that could help her and alleviate the pressure of feeding our family as we struggled to exist in the low-levels of Cedrus City.