The Fog [Chapter One]

            "What now..." She asked herself. She stood on the edge of a cliff. Looking down, she could see a thin strip of blue leading into a thick mist. A breeze blew, sending a chill across her body. Her black, spaghetti strap shirt and thin blue jeans were barely enough to keep her warm in the cool air. 
            "Walk the river" she heard someone say. It was the voice of a woman, faint like wind. She did as it said, without question or fear. She put her foot over the edge of the cliff and rested her foot on the image of the river. She did that same with her other foot. She stood there in a quiet, almost undetectable awe. She was standing miles above the river, and yet, she's standing on it!
              She continued walking along the thin strip of crystal blue, keeping her eyes on the river. She moved slowly, steadily, for what felt like a lifetime. She began to panic when her view of the river became obscured by the mist. Fear began to wash over her, but she continued along the little bit of river she could see.
              Her heart started to beat harder and harder against her chest as the fog continued to envelop everything around her. She stopped walking. She could no longer see the river, or anything for that matter. She was surrounded entirely by fog. There was no ground, no horizon, nothing. Her heart slowed back to normal and her panic calmed as time passed. She tried to sit, but she fell straight through the surface she was once standing on. She let out a small "Ahh!" as she fell, but quickly realized that she was not falling at all. She was floating. She enjoyed the feeling of weightlessness and allowed herself to get lost in relaxing thought. She thought of where she was before the cliff, before the river, before the fog. She was home, in her bed. Her body was weak from her day at school. The kids there treated her like she was some kind of circus freak, and the teachers weren't any better. She thought of those awful children, and how happy she was to be this faraway from them.

            "Do you sleep this much all the time?" she heard a deep, slow voice ask. She opened her eyes and saw that she was laying on a bed of thick, green grass. She had fallen asleep. The origin of the voice was still a mystery. She looked around for the source of the voice, but all she saw was an large, old willow tree. She responded anyway, to nothing in particular.
            "I don't know..." She heard the tree rustle and she froze with shock at what was happening. The tree somehow began to form a face! It's eyes were sleepy and didn't open all the way. It had no nose and it's mouth was merely a gap in it's trunk.
            "That's fine." it said, "That's not what matters here." She looked in awe and shock, but not fear. She said nothing, waiting for the tree to speak again, and it did.
            "What is your name, girl?" the tree asked, with a suspicious curiosity in it's slow, tired voice. She began to answer, but couldn't. She had forgotten her name! All this time went by and not once had she realized that she'd forgotten her name. 
            "My name...is...it's..." She responded, a bit of panic in her voice. How could she forget her name?
            "Is it Violet?" the tree asked, and to her surprise, he was right!
            "Yes! That's it!" Violet said in a slightly raised voice. She sat on the grass, happy to have remembered such a important piece of herself. 
            "Do you know where you are?" the tree asked in that same deep, slow voice. Violet stayed quiet, not knowing how to answer. The tree seemed all knowing in her eyes now, after he had guessed her name correctly without much thought, so she waited for him to answer his own question, and sure enough, he did.
            "Of course you don't, you clearly were never here before. I am The Willow and you are in The Fog, or the entrance, at least." The Willow spoke a bit faster now. Violet crawled closer to the tree, eager to hear what it had to say.
            "There is something special about you, so I will not have you face her, but know that this is a great privilege that you are receiving. Do not take it for granted." The Willow said this at a normal pace, but an abnormally high volume. Violet wondered who "her" was, and why not having to face her was a privilege.
            "Take a leaf from me, and use it as the key." The Willow ordered. Violet did as she was told. She picked a leaf, but was taken aback by the the loud wince that came from the tree.
            "I'm sorry!" Violet said, her voice raised from the kick of adrenaline she had received. The Willow turned to her, slowly, and opened his sleepy eyes as wide as he could. His struggle to do so was obvious.
            "Your apology is unnecessary." He said in that slow, deep voice he had used before."Now find the door." Violet watched as the tree's face melded back into it's trunk. She looked down at the leaf. It took her a while to realize that she had no idea what door he was talking about. Violet looked up in horror and watched helplessly as the tree was swallowed up by the thick fog. She was floating again. She put the leaf in her pocket,careful not to bend or tear it. She looked around, twirling in the thick, cold space. There were no signs of a door, or even a way to a door. She was lost again, but this time is the first time she truly felt lost. She felt a tear, cold like ice, roll down her cheek. The teardrop fell off her face and into the gray abyss. She closed her eyes, and heard a sound. It was an echo of sorts, as if a rock was dropped into a pit and hit the bottom. She opened her eyes, frozen from shock. She looked back, slowly, and saw something that sent a chill up her spine. This chill was very different from the one she felt on the cliff. This was an eerie chill.
              Violet stood, face to face with a door.