Just like every morning, Maya expected to be woken up by the obnoxious, annoying, blaring sound of her alarm clock. She would then proceed to stumble out of bed, fix her morning cup of coffee, wash up, get dressed, and head to her morning classes. This had become her regular routine over the past few months. It was mundane, and too repetitive for her liking, but she found it was the most effective way for her to get her butt to class on time without looking like a bum.
It was mid-January, and she was just beginning the second semester of her freshman year of college. The bitter, unforgiving east coast winter made getting out the door, let alone getting out of bed, a daily struggle. Maya had lived in the same general area for most of her 19 years, but that never made the quickly changing, bipolar weather any easier to get used to, especially since she had to walk everywhere since becoming a college student.
Lying on her side, Maya began to shiver, and somewhere in her sleep-depraved mind, made a mental note to beg her roommate, once again, to stop turning down the heat at night. She'd rather pay extra money for heat than catch a cold and miss her classes.
As Maya reached for her blanket, hoping she still had a few minutes before her alarm went off, she eventually realized that she was just reaching for air. Her blanket was nowhere to be found. After forcing her eyes open and sitting up, she discovered that her whole room was apparently nowhere to be found, as well. In fact, the only thing she saw was a thick, never ending fog.
But she was tired. Still somewhere between dream-land and reality, Maya brushed off her strange surroundings as her brain playing tricks on her, and laid back down to make the most of her remaining minutes of rest.
Not knowing whether she'd passed out for a few minutes or a few hours, Maya's eyes gently fluttered open. After things came into focus, it seemed that, as opposed to being woken up by her alarm, a stray dog had taken it upon itself to give her face a tongue bath.
"Get OFF!" she shrieked. Maya bolted up and shoved the animal off of her, wondering where it had come from, and who it belonged to.
The dog began to bark and jump around uncontrollably, as though it had just found some fun, new toy to play with.
"Stop, stop, stop! What's wrong with you?" She asked rhetorically, while looking around for the dog's owner, or someone who would know what to do with it. She got up and tried to get away, but the dog followed after her, refusing to let her out of its sight.
Just then, both Maya and the dog immediately stopped when they heard a high pitched, nearly deafening whistle.
In the distance, she heard what sounded like an elderly man calling, "Cass! Cass! Where'd you go girl? Cass!" Assuming the man was looking for the dog, Maya ran towards the voice, hoping that maybe he'd be able to tell her where she was.
Since waking up and entertaining the idea that maybe she wasn't dreaming, Maya tried to determine where she'd ended up, or how she got there in the first place. She was outside, on a field of green grass. She ruled out being kidnapped, or passing out drunk at someone's house. She was used to cities and suburbs, not lush valleys and hilltops. So then, how many logical explanations were there? Sure, she could've still been dreaming, but this was unlike any dream she'd had before. There were too many details that she never would've experienced in a real dream. The grass was too soft, too green, and the air was too fresh, and too cool. There was still a dense fog, so she couldn't see much else around her, but it seemed like she ended up in the middle of nowhere.
Once the old man came into view, the dog completely forgot about Maya, and ran towards its owner, still barking, jumping, and wagging its tail.
"What have I told you about running off like that?" the man chastised, "next time, I'll-," he stopped mid-sentence once he caught sight the strange young woman standing in front of him. Normally, he would've been concerned about finding someone on the hillside so early in the morning, but her appearance left him confused and at a loss for words. She wore a large cotton shirt with bright, colorful letters that read "Aerosmith", and her legs were bare, rather than stocking-clad.
"W-what're you, where'd you, w-who..." the old man stuttered.
Maya slowly approached him. "Please sir, I have no idea where I am. I just woke up here. I'm lost, and I don't know how I got here."
The man just stared at her as though she was crazy, so she continued, hoping she would say something that would get him to understand her situation.
"I'm a student, my name is Maya, Maya Evans. I'm not from this area, so I would be extremely grateful if you could at least tell me what this place is called."
He continued to stare, and seemed even more confused. He clearly spoke English, so it couldn't have been that he just didn't understand her. Maya let out a frustrated sigh, and tried to decide whether or not she should just leave the man alone and walk around until she found someone else who could help her out.
"Esfalda."
