I suddenly jolt awake. It's pitch black outside, so I assume it's still nighttime. I hold my breath instinctively, some primal part of me woke me up, and I listen intently for any sounds. The night air feels chill on my bare skin now, but hopefully my shelter provides some insulation. Did I just pass out?

A rustling noise catches my attention, like something big has just pushed its way through a bush. I think it comes from the side not facing the tree, but it's hard to make out from where I am. I'm unable to see anything due to the darkness, and the covering of moss blocks my view anyway, leaving me clueless about what's making the noise. Sure, the forest isn't really silent, but none of those regular background noises feel as immediate, nor nearly as ominous, as what I just heard.

Just as I feel like whatever made the sound might have gone, the thump of a heavy footfall rings out, slowly approaching my location, until it stops right next to my shelter. My heart's racing, adrenaline pumping through me like crazy. I can't help but imagine some monster looming outside. My brain's running wild, cooking up all sorts of nightmare-fueled creatures, each more terrifying than the last. I picture it examining the triangular structure and wondering about the unfamiliar scent emanating from within. In my mind, I see the creature raising a massive claw and demolishing the shelter and me with it.

Whatever it is emits a rumbling snort, sending a shiver down my spine. I freeze, afraid even to breathe, and pray that whatever it is loses interest. Time seems to slow as I wait, keeping my breaths as minute as possible, the time dragging on. The steady breathing from the animal outside is the only thing I can hear. After what feels like an eternity, it seems to make up its mind, and there's the sound of liquid splashing, quickly followed by a potent stench that wafts through my shelter. After finishing its business, I hear the creature's footsteps receding.

I'm torn between disgust and relief. Part of me is just glad to still be breathing. On the other hand, that creature just had to go and pee on my shelter! For one glorious moment I imagine myself running after it and stabbing it with a spear, but reality quickly reasserts itself.

I'm rooted to the spot for at least another ten minutes, even after the sound of the creature has long since faded away. The fear clings to me, sticky and unwelcome. There's no way I'm falling asleep again anytime soon. The rush of adrenaline is wearing off, leaving me shivering and acutely aware of the chill night air gnawing at my skin; hypothermia flashes across my mind as a very real threat. I briefly panic, contemplating whether it's wise to venture out of the shelter to move around a bit and warm myself up. The moss beneath me has grown warm from my body, but it's hardly enough. The real problem, I realize, is the triangular opening at the end of my shelter - a mistake that I regret not addressing earlier. Yet, given my exhaustion earlier, I doubt I would have managed it anyway.

image [https://pub-43e7e0f137a34d1ca1ce3be7325ba046.r2.dev/Group.png]

I hug my arms to my body. As I lie here, my first night in this forsaken forest, I contemplate the life I left behind. Will anyone notice that I'm gone? I don't have extremely regular contact with my family, so it would be some time before they notice.

Maybe my workplace will reach out to my parents if I don’t show up on Monday? Then again, maybe they’ll just think I up and quit? Given how vocal I’ve been about my complaints, that wouldn’t be a stretch for my manager to believe.

People will miss me, I am sure. This isn’t like those stories where the outcast is thrown into a different world and nobody misses them or cares because they’re an asshole that derives enjoyment from sacking people. Sure I am introverted, I could definitely be considered a loner, but I like people in moderate doses, and it's not like I'm incapable of socializing. It just becomes a lot easier with some help from a little ethanol.

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

I guess the first people to notice I'm gone will be my coworkers. But the first people to care much will be my family. Something tells me there's not a lot of chance I'll make it back to my world before my parents freak out, before my brothers start running all over town to try and figure out what happened to me, before the police will put out a missing person notice, or even before they'll count me as permanently missing or dead.

I look at the patchy wooden roof above my head, and smirk a little. As of yet, I'm not feeling too guilty about that. In some way this is a dream come true, even if I'm in a bit of a bind right now. I guess I just cannot believe that someone would drop me in the middle of this forest without some purpose. The only thing I need to do is find it.

I guess I’ve always felt a little guilty for thinking of the reincarnation thing as something I wanted to happen to me. But dear god, life was just so dull. I was good at my job, and I actually enjoyed it, but the people around me were infuriating. Hell, the world itself was aggravating. Death and suffering everywhere, shitty government, religious fanaticism, extremists galore, and a personal favorite, internet trolls that ruin shit for everyone.

I know it was supposed to be the best of times, but honestly, that just shows how bad things were before—not how great they are now. You keep wishing that people will wake up, that we'll suddenly shift to this post-scarcity society I feel is just within our grasp, but everything just keeps rolling along like before, with only tiny tweaks here and there. There was no way my life would ever change, even if I lived to be a hundred. I'd be lying if said I'm not a little bit happy that I get to explore a whole new world now. Assuming this really is a new world, of course.

As I think that, I'm filled with the strange feeling again. I wonder if it's magic, or maybe something else? Why do I suddenly get filled with certainty when my thoughts contemplate the possibility that this is a new world. Is there something or someone that is trying to make me forget any other possibilities? I think it's way too overt for that though, I can hardly miss it. It's more like the world is trying to communicate something to me.

That said, my old world had been pretty good to me. I wasn’t born in a war-torn country. I never had to worry about food. I had what I consider to be a happy childhood, in a first world country and all that. I have an education. I was able to study basically anything I wanted thanks to our socialist government. Of course I studied computer science, which was a stupid mistake, but I really didn't feel like doing it again after I'd already gone through 4 years of uni once.

Computers are great, but too many algorithms make my head spin. Architecture is more my thing, but that kind of stuff isn't really covered in school. Hell, the first thing my first boss asked is if I know Git, and in all those 4 years of uni nobody had ever even mentioned it existed. So... many... hours... wasted!

Still graduated though. Make decent money even, though the job was a pain in the ass. Apparently just feeling like you'd like to do your best is more than most people can bring up, so I was always regarded as ‘highly motivated’ or something silly like that. As far as I'm concerned, I'm the norm, and everyone else is just lazy.

I'm lying on a bed of moss in a different world, clad in nothing but air, and somehow all that makes absolutely no difference. Thirty-two years of life, and I am still waiting for that magical moment when I realize I am an adult now. You become 18, and you are finally legally recognized as an adult, only to realize that everyone going to university is still just as stupid as when they were 7 years old. Maybe more so, because massive amounts of alcohol does that to you. Then you finish uni, and think that surely, when you start working, you'll deal with adults. Only to find that the workplace is just as filled with bullies, nerds and useless people as in school. At least I am old enough now to realize that it was always a pipe dream. I wonder if my grandpa still felt that way towards the end of his life, it wouldn't surprise me.

And now here I am. I’m not quite sure if I’ve done anything good or bad to deserve it. I don’t think I am a bad person, but probably not a particularly good person either. It's certainly true that I always thought it would be fun to be the protagonist in a novel, so I guess I had it coming? I just wish it were more like those protagonists in terms of getting the goodies, power, and allies. I've got exactly none of that.

Should I consider what's happening to me a punishment, or a reward? I cannot figure it out, and as those thoughts swirl through my mind, I drift off to sleep.