You had always enjoyed your alone time. You could spend hours upon hours at the lake in the woods near your house. You love the serene glass-like surface of the lake and the wild flowers along the bank. Everyday you go out and lay a blanket in the grass and lie there for hours upon hours. The lake was far enough into the woods that it felt like your own little universe there. The lake was very small, and willow trees draped their dangling branches around the edges of the lake. But the main reason you loved it there so much, you could never quite explain. There was an energy to the place. It felt powerful and magical to you, like it belonged in another world.
Today you decide to bring a book with you to the lake to read. Every day after work you change out of your uniform and take your hair out of it's harsh bun. You feel that the peacefulness of the lake and the stress you associate with your job do not mix. Then you grab your old ratty blanket, the one that has spent every day with you at the lake. You always keep it in the closet right by your front door. You spend very little time in your house when you get home from work. What you really look forward to at the end of each day is your little hideaway. Even though you have been there thousands of times before, you always rush to get out the door. But today felt different. While you usually rush there because you love the lake, today it felt like you were practically being pulled to the lake by a force outside you control.
With your book in your hand and the blanket under your arm, you are finally ready to leave. You turn around quickly before leaving to see if you left anything behind. You scan what you can see of your house and realize you are all ready to go. Little do you know you might not ever see your home again.