Particles of dust drifted in the light as I watched, staring up into the canopy of leaves above me. A breeze gently shifted the canopy and stirred my white blonde hair. The light simmered with the leaves, and danced across the forest. Everything is simpler here, in the forest. So many things that don't seem possible in the polished civilization still make no sense here. But, for whatever reason, the butterfly wings on my back seem less baffling.

   I stretched my porcelain arms in front of me. They are so pale that I can see my blue veins like tattoos. My nails are strong at the end of my slender fingers. Fairy fingers, that’s what my Aunt Becky always called them. I used to laugh at that and twiddle my fingers like I was casting a spell. Aunt Becky always laughed, but now I wonder if she knew. I’ll never know though. So much has changed. Like the fact that I can’t remember my name.