It's funny how gravity works. We don't see it but we know it's there, always pulling us towards the center of the planet. Relentless, but always reliable. So now I wake up and my head is starting to clear from the latest blackout in the neurons. If it were a robot, this is the moment where I am checking the position with the gravitational sensor (mandated by federal law, that each robot has one). And my sensors tell me that I am now on my back, with some lateral movement. Perhaps vibrations due to mechanical imbalances.

I open the only eye that works for me, and what I see are the branches of the trees going up, as if I were going down an elevator and you are looking out a window. Wait the fuck, I'm moving. No, they're dragging me...

I knew it, the bear takes me to the cave, to be eaten alive. Nothing like a live steak, in the middle of the night, to calm your hunger! Well, you're going to be screwed, bear. I have been exercising like a maniac to keep my body in shape. Women like men with manly chests and shoulders. So the meat is not going to be juicy, nor oily, as bears must like it. It will be dry and hard. I hope you choke, you hairy wild bastard!

I feel like they don't keep dragging me. I guess the future host, from my proteins, has noticed that I'm awake. Simple curiosity to see me awake, he smelled the fear I must be exuding like bullets, or wariness for his prey; but it has stopped . I feel the movement of leaves being stepped on. Well, the first thing I need to see is the bear's snout. Sure smells me, take a couple of bites to prove I can't resist, and back to the cave. I hope this week is over, because I've had better ones, but by far.

What is my surprise, that my eye almost popped out, never to return, when instead of the bear, it is something else that approaches me, out of the corner of my eye. An elderly lady, dressed entirely in grey, who for lack of a better description, wears a medieval peasant costume.

A leather vest, closed with an animal tendon, like a seam, and without sleeves. Several glass jars hung from this vest, in two rows on each side. The lowest row, all were green in content. The top row had more variety of shapes and colors. If the idea was to carry flasks, a few pockets would do the job. Hanging from tendon strips sewn to the vest, it gave me the impression of grenades ready to grab at any moment. The vest is brown, made of some animal skin, which I honestly don't recognize or care about at the moment.

The clothing under the vest is a gray dress, which covers the entire body, with sleeves included. The dress is adjusted to her body, showing the entire trajectory that her body follows. That although the fabric is coarse and looks like a sack, it certainly shows off its curves. Wear a pair of gloves and high boots, both of the same material and black. He carries what looks like a backpack on his back. And again, the use of a tendon does not go unnoticed in the backpack.

No one I know in this century would wear those clothes even if they paid him, least of all for the forest. Only members of a very isolated community and with little disposition to interact with strangers, should have such clothing fashion. More of a necessity, the result of not being able to regularly access a civilized store.

The woman is not ugly at all. Although it is already with the past rice, if you know what I mean, it is beautiful. A few white wrinkles and gray hair hang on his face. Blond hair, with white streaks, which I suppose is due to age. Even so, she is still an old lady.

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Which reminds me, this sweet old lady is dragging me through the woods like it was nothing! He has a rope in one of his hands, I can tell at a glance. And following the rope, he has my ankles tied, with another stretch of rope and again another tie, this time around my waist. There's no one else, so this skinny, sweet, old lady carries me like a sack, dragging me effortlessly through the forest. What woman or man can drag another through the woods like nothing happened.

I ask her, forcing my voice not to show panic, and tolerating the pain I still feel: - Madam, could you tell me what's happened? I consider it rude to question her directly as to why she drags me. But if he's saved me, the least I can give him is a polite question.

I see that the old woman raises an eyebrow , with a disapproving face. Like a mother who has surprised her son, putting his hand in the cookie jar. I see her mouth start to move and sounds reach my ears

- kut nair bart !

I hear what he says again

- kut nair bart !-

As he walks toward me, he pulls a knife from a sheath on his back. Damn lady, I'm so thankful for saving me from the bear. But there is no need for violence! I get nervous and answer back, even though I don't understand anything he said:

-Ma'am, calm down and let's talk things over-

The lady, who never stops looking at me, wrinkles her face and speaks again in a lower tone:

- kut nair bart !-

I see her lean down, knife in hand, and begin to cut the hem of the dress. Precisely tear, with the help of the knife and remove a strip of fabric. Now that I think about it, I'm hurt, my whole body hurts. I guess the sweet old lady, what she wants is to bandage me. Sure, and I distrust his noble intentions. We may not understand each other, but your intentions are what count. He's going to sell me. I think to myself, that I am a disgusting and mean person. How can I think… I skip a beat, the lady is putting the cloth in my mouth and is surrounding my head with the cloth. If this wasn't enough, I feel how he presses the cloth inside my mouth, clearly he doesn't want me to make noises. I no longer have color in my face, a white sheet is what it is.

I have heard stories about isolated communities where their members have done the unspeakable. Acts of pure evil, perversion without limits. A tear comes out of my good eye, while I see the old lady continue with her routine. It's all over for me. I'm still alive after the accident, saved from a bear. And for what? To be a witch's toy or snack!

And without further delay, the lady returns to pull her load by the rope. My senses were on full blast, searching for every sensation and triple-checking it. A part of me fervently hopes that it will be a nightmare. Yes, right now, a good nightmare is not bad at all. Even waking up, free-falling out of bed, seems like a dream plan, more desired than winning a million-dollar lottery ticket.

What seems to me endless hours, of a journey through the forest, ends with a clearing. The trees have made a circle, where all there is is low grass. By the luck that I have had, this is where the lady skins me.

The lady stops for a few moments, looking towards the line of the forest that surrounds us. From his slow breathing, he must be looking for danger as he scans back and forth repeatedly. If I wasn't worried about the time of day before, I realize it's getting dark. My stomach also growls at me with dissatisfaction.

A serious look from the lady is enough for me to remain so still that I don't even blink. I want to drill my eyes into the lady's brain, to see what she wants. He makes a low snort, turns into the woods again, disappearing into the trees and branches.

I don't hear his footsteps, just my cowardly ragged breath. I can only wait, to see if I have time to free the ties from my hands. The rope can't be very good, when it's handmade, I tell myself. It has to break easy if I find something with a sharp edge.

Someone must be eating popcorn and watching the show. I try to move, as if possessed. Tremors everywhere in my body, under a layer of pain that makes me numb. Yes, how am I going to get away, if the freest thing I have is my eye, with second place, well deserved, my dry tongue.

- Ah, what does it matter now –, I say to myself mentally and try to sleep, maybe this way it will be more bearable.

The breeze and the movement of the leaves of the trees do their thing. What I think is 10 minutes is how long it takes me to fall asleep.