But back to the present. A buried acorn. So what am I supposed to do here, relax in the dirt? This is beyond messed up. I gotta move, get out of here before that damned furball gets back here! Surely I can will myself to grow legs right. Move, damnit!

  Desperate thoughts translated into pathetic wiggles. My organic prison didn’t listen to me. I’m doomed. Please just listen to me. GET. ME. OUT!

  A dull crack reverberated across me. Bits of my outer shell flaked off, revealing a tiny tendril. A new part was added to my anatomical roster. It certainly wasn’t a leg, it was a lot more flexible, a small wiggly thingamabobber emerging from a crack along my body. I had a root!

  A cascade of new sensations rang through. Soft, bristly fibres decorated my new “arm”. Small clumps of dirt rubbed shoulder to shoulder with my new appendage. I arced the root and wrapped it around my body. What Nyla gave me was accurate. Round. Hard. A small cap at the top. A normal acorn.

  Oh please, Nyla, I was reincarnated as a plant that grows eyes, right? Going through life only feeling what’s directly touching you is hell. Now wasn’t the time to pray on a Hail Mary though. I had to move away from my burial spot. It’s time to wiggle my way out of this.

  I slowly dragged my body through the dirt, every move felt like progressing through quicksand, useless. Every iota of dirt moved was another small avalanche that collapsed on top of me. Any wayward pebble or ball of dirt was flung behind me. After minutes, or maybe hours, I was all spent. My “leg” refused to move through the soil. With the last of my energy, I rooted myself into the ground and called it a day.

  Waves of fatigue engulfed me, and I slowly went limp.

  ……….

  “Happy Birthday, $@!#4&” said a voice beside me.

  “…What?” My eyes fluttered awake. Wait. Eyes? A dining table with a strawberry cheesecake was laid bare in front of me. The red jam…I was beginning to miss basic colours. Heavy-eyed rays crept from the windowsill and spilled across the kitchen floor. A slim figure in front of the sink blocked the outside view.

  “So? Did you have any wishes for your 18th birthday?” the same voice asked. I clung on to every syllable. Slow and thin, every word was etched into the air. Warm to my ears. Who was this?

  They turned around. Greying obsidian hair hung loosely around her shoulders. Crow’s feet perched next to her brown eyes. An ageless smile accompanied her question. It was the same forgiving smile despite what I later did. My eyes shunted to the floor. The marble tiles did not burn me. More patchwork of memories were recovered in my mind, I knew who she was.

  “Thanks, Mom,” I said, “And no, no wishes yet. Maybe to see a lot more.”

  “See? Well, we can go to the local park in a bit,” she said.

  Oh, you have no idea what I’ve been through. I hope I can stay here forever. But I know this is a dream. And my mission just got started.

  “Well before we leave, go eat your cake before the flies get to it,” she said.

  Gently lifting the fork, I dug out a large chunk. A perfect combination of strawberry jam, cream cheese, and biscuit base was hoisted into my mouth-

  “You’re a disappointment. You don’t have the right to be happy,” she whispered. The fork clanged to the ground.

  “Mom, I’m-”

  “It’s okay. You can be a failure in your new life. When we saw your body crumpled on that hospital bed, we drew a sigh of relief. That thing was dead.”

  “Who are you?” I asked. My eyes slammed into the figure’s face. Those brown eyes were glancing across my face.

  “I thought there would be delicious expressions coursing across you. All I’m left with is a broken vessel,” it said. A pool of tar expanded beneath our feet. Tendrils crept onto the table, infecting it in darkness.

  “She was never cruel to me. I was only cruel to myself. Now tell me, who are you?” It continued to wear her smile. The inky mess had almost swallowed the entire room. My fingers clasped around the fallen fork. “Would this help?” I asked, flinging it into the figure.

  It never landed.

  ……….

  Large booms reverberated across my miniature chamber. Pockets of dirt rained down on me. My mind still lingered on my mom. I forgot her name. What a terrible son. I hope she’s doing alright back on Earth. In the last months, I had moved out of my parent’s house and…I’ve done enough lingering to fill two lifetimes. Who was that figure?

  Another vibration scattered the leftover images of last night’s dream out of my mind. I resumed my Sisyphean task. Root in, root out, and fling dirt behind me. After a few shovels, my roots pierced through a section with ease. Great! I’m making good progress-

  A torrent of water blasted through the small chamber. Acorns can’t drown, right? I don’t remember seeds having a respiratory system…What was left of my tunnel had collapsed at this point. The water began washing through in a different direction. I could either anchor myself here and wait it out or go with the flow. I’ll take my chances. I let go of the earth beneath me.

  Through the raging current, the only sense of direction I had was the occasional bump or scrape along some rock. Trying to grasp anything was useless. But I finally came to rest on a small crevice. I wasn’t letting this chance go. Surely, I travelled far enough away from my original burial grounds, right?

  My bruised and torn root slowly inched my figure to shallower waters. Crawling along the bank, the floating sensation was replaced by the small grit of sand. With one root slowly arching me across the land, I was the jankiest caterpillar to ever exist. Eventually settling on a mound of flaky dirt, exhaustion finally washed over me. With a last bit of energy, my root pierced the ground. I began dozing off again, another day survived.

  The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

  “How did you end up here?” a soft high-pitched voice rang in my head. Every word uttered started with the same bombastic energy as the last. “Aw you poor thing, scratched up and barely holding on, I didn’t think Veledub still produced any seedlings…”

  My head which had been filled with my ever-growing psychotic ramblings finally had a second voice. Not dreamt up, but there. I needed to reply.

  “Can you hear me? Where am I, can you tea-”

  “Here, let me get you spruced up!” the voice continued.

  “Hey! Are you there?” There was no reply.

  Warm waves spread throughout my body. The small scratches I felt piling across my little self began to close, forming a neat picture.

  “There you go. All patched up! I’ll come back to check on ya later.”

  “Wait no. Please stay! Tell me about this place, what I look like, who is this Veledud? Please…” There was no reply. It never heard me. Please come back. Nyla…you really couldn’t give me a mouth or eyes? I would have taken any one of those...Is it too late to accept your other offer?

  I really wanted to give up. Too bad acorns are incapable of crying. I did the next best thing: waiting patiently and letting myself get used to the new environment.

  Whether it was water or minerals, this new soil surprisingly had a lot more than the last one. My root slowly branched into a small spider web of small hairs and larger tendrils. What a hairy situation. The only problem was that I couldn’t easily uproot myself anymore. But if it meant hearing another voice again, the risk was worth it. I hope you’re back tomorrow. I hunkered down and waited for sleep to take me.

  ……….

  “So how was your first week?” rang a gentle voice. I was back in the flower fields, splayed out on the ground.

  “You try dealing with losing most of your sense and having to deal with moving yourself with a flimsy root.” There was no reply. All the pent-up frustrations of trying to survive finally exploded.

  “And where were you?” I shouted, “You never came to talk to me. All I could hope for were the traces of old memories to remember what life used to be. Do you…do you know what it feels like to cry but not have the eyes to?”

  “I’m sorry. I wish I could have given you better, but your soul…I’m sorry,” whispered Nyla. She was right, she told me the risks. I just thought I was better.

  “No, you gave me a warning. I thought the challenge would be learning about a new world, making allies, learning a new magic system, and finding out I was secretly overpowered…But I can’t even see this world.”

  “While you cannot see, you have immersed yourself most intimately. Drinking from its water, eating its carefully curated nutrients. You will survive.”

  “How?” I asked. The echoes of near-death experiences permeated my mind. Huh, they were near death, weren’t they?

  Nyla said, “You know if you did not tunnel your way out, that squirrel would have come back the next day. This world has so much to offer you, all I ask is that you live long enough to experience it…and try to protect what’s left.” Her voice lingered on that last note.

  “And how long will that take?”

  “Sooner than you think.”

  “Thanks for the cryptic answer. And why are you choosing to speak with me now? Was I too close to losing my mind?”

  “I didn’t know you were that close, but no,” she said, deflating my recovering goodwill. “Any god worth their name could be able to commune with their charges within the epicentre of their temple!” Nyla proclaimed.

  “HUH?”

  “You did not know? Where else would you have found such n-nourishment-t?”

  Her voice began separating into a chorus of divorced echoes. I waited for her to continue.

  “I’m sorry, I’d a-accompany you for longer but I must commune with my other charges-s.”

  “Before you go, I had a dream the other night of this figure that used the memory of my mom and spread tar. Does that mean anything?” I asked.

  “…No, I b-believe your mind is still reeling from the reincarnation process. Perhaps you’ll recover more memories as your soul h-heals,” Nyla replied. Her voices gathered for a final moment.

  “I assure you, you will not be alone on your journey. After all, you met one of my charges did you not?”

  “Wait that voice-”

  ……….

  I was back to consciousness. Who knew whether I woke up in the morning or night? I stretched my arms across the wandering breeze-wait, arms? These aren’t arms. I wiggled them for a moment. Flat. Wide. Wiggly. I GOT LEAVES! They scrambled across the top of my former head, I had lost my cap. A small stem remained with my two leafy arms on either end. Great! I can’t wait to explore and walk around!

  But my leg didn’t listen, while I was asleep, my roots had reached out and latched on to every rock, pebble, and clump of dirt it could find. I was rooted in place. It wasn’t all that bad. My leaves were much more delicate than my robust acorn body. The wind filtered through each pore. I was breathing. They were my window to the world. Maybe I couldn’t see it. But I was feeling it. Each breath ran through my entire body like a lover’s caress. Are there any female plants nearby? I’m losing it.

  “Hey! You’re all grown up!” chirped a voice beside me.

  She’s back! I lifted my right leaf.

  “Well hi to you too! Wait, you can hear me?”

  Y-yes! My entire body gyrated like a spinning top.

  “Oooo, you must be a wakey. First Veledub leaves a seed and now you’re a wakey!”

  What the hell is a ‘wakey.’ I wish I could speak to her. Somehow. I tried reaching out with one of my leaves. And they received a faint tug.

  “Haha, you’re funny, keep growing okay? I’ll keep checking back on ya when I have the chance. You’re not the only one in the sanctuary that deserves attention.”

  I guess not…I’m just glad you’ll be coming by regardless. I nodded my stem.

  “Cheer up Mr…, Mr…huh you don’t have a name yet, do you? Did any of my friends name ya yet? Maybe your dryad?”

  I shook my head.

  “Naming is a very big thing,” the voice said, “Mr. Arbor chose for himself rather than let us name him. Do you already have one in mind?”

  Despite everything I’ve gone through, I still couldn’t recall it. Maybe it was better for the first person to keep me company in this world and give it to me. I pulled back my leaf and tried to feel around. It brushed against soft curls of hair. Strange. I don’t think they were longer than half my leaf. How small are you?

  “Hey! I just brushed my hair dangit!” they said, slapping away my ‘hand.’

  I’d feel hurt, but I have no central nervous system. Mental pain will have to do. I shrunk back and put my leaf behind me.

  “You can’t just go touching a girl’s hair all willy-nilly!”

  My bad…We continued chatting for a few more minutes. It was a game of charades between her describing how beautiful the forest was and me inventing a new sign language. But as the conversation wound down…

  “Oh!” chimed the girl, “I forgot to give ya a name! Hmmm, you’re very feisty, refuse to give up, sprung up in the weirdest places…Sallix. You’ll be Sallix.”

  I like it. For the first time in this new world, I had a name I could call my own.

  “And Mr. Sallix, my name is Vila,” she grasped my stem, “Pleased to meet ya.”

  I coyly pulled away and gently smacked the top of her head.

  “Hey, what was that for?” she cried out, “Ooooh I get it, Mr. Sallix, can I say hi to you like that in the future?”

  I bent my leaf up and down. Anytime Vila and please do it more often.

  “I’ll come see ya later then,” she said.

  A puff of wind blew past me. See ya later Vila.