In the forest, I can ignore the fact that my life is spiraling out of control.

I can avoid the reality that I'm betrothed to a man I don't love, overlook the fact that I'm never able to make my own choices, and run away from the truth: I'm trapped eternally in a life I hate.

The forest is blissfully peaceful, like a dream from another world. The trees never whisper that I'm a disappointment like my father often does. The animals don't chatter behind my back as my tribemates do. The still waters never judge me and my soul feels free.

Well, almost. As free as it can feel when I'm still trapped in my life and my time in the forest is brief. I will have to go back home eventually.

I lean back on the warm, soft grass beside a pond deep within the trees. My eyes flutter to my side and I watch the azure water shimmer like a single sheet of moving, waving crystal under the warm rays of sunlight streaming through the treetops.

If only I could stay here forever. If only I never had to go back.

Cherishing the heat against my face and listening to the chirps and flutters of the Neyenflies, I breathe out a slow exhale. The silly creatures dance in the air above; their opal wings fluttering delicately against the air as they perch and dive from tree to tree.

I envy the Neyenflies. They live without a single worry. Free to go wherever they'd like whenever they'd like, they live a life I could only dream of. 

If I tried to go away, my father would have my head and Meben would-

"Saiea, come back!" A voice calls from deep within the forest. My shoulders tense and I close my eyes. The last thing I want is to be found and ushered back home. Doesn't he know I came out here because I don't want to be found?

Meben, the source of the voice, isn't just a young man from my clan. He's "my" man.

A typical warrior-hunter of my species, his dark, tanned golden skin ripples with muscles. And, much like our other hunters, he would much rather brag about his fighting skills than talk about anything meaningful.

As the clanmaster's only daughter, I am doomed to tie the knot with Meben; to live and love him, birth his children, and unite our spirits eternally. 

"Please, Saiea, your father is worried. You shouldn't be out here alone after nightfall." Meben's voice sounds strained. He'll have a lot of explaining to do if he comes back to my father empty-handed. Shouldn't a man be able to keep his future wife contained? And how could a future wife and successor of the tribe be so awfully unruly?

His threat - that I shouldn't be out here alone - is an empty one. He's referencing the slave traders that "supposedly" roam the forest. Although we've had a couple of members of our tribe go missing, I know the truth: This place is so awful that they chose to run away.

Even if Meben was right and members of our tribe had been abducted, I wouldn't be. It's daylight and I'll come back to the village long before it gets dark.

For now, I'll enjoy my time here for as long as I can. Closing my eyes, I pretend I can choose any future. I can choose to marry anyone I want, do whatever I'd like to do, and take any path out of these woods.

A chuckle escapes my lips. Yeah, right. Like that will ever happen.

But my smile fades and I imagine running out to the mountains. I've heard they're out there somewhere; towering beautiful mounds of rock and bright green grasses. I've heard they even have trickling frothy azure streams and orange and pink Neyenflies. It must be like magic seeing them, and it sounds wonderful.

And I would learn to do art there. In my tribe, women live to make offspring and tend to their men, but I want to make art and keep to myself, far away from all the responsibilities of my tribe.

A Neyenfly perches on my nose, startling me into opening my eyes and brushing it away. Meben calls out again, but he sounds further away. He must be giving up finding me.

Immersion broken, my stressors come flooding back. My father will pass soon, I'll wed Meben, and I'll be forced to spend my life as his doormat as he commands me to do everything I hate.

"Won't you come out for your wonderful husband?" His words prompt me to snort.

Yes, he's a wonderful man. Everyone in the tribe adores him. How could they not? Blessed with glowing bronze skin, adorned with a thick jaw, short beaded hair, a beefy body, and rippling muscles - he's the epitome of handsomeness. 

He's well-bred and a powerful hunter. Every day he brings home a catch double the size of anyone else's. Our tribe girls swoon over him everywhere he goes and even the older women pretend to stumble while walking past just to feel his firm body.

I must be the only one in our village who doesn't think he's the most perfect person alive. His muscles don't appeal to me - he looks more like a rock than a man - and he would no sooner talk about any subject with depth than my father would renounce his tribe leadership and break out into a dance.

He is shallow and loves the attention the other women give him. Married to him, he wouldn't care for me, he wouldn't love me, and he wouldn't allow me to do anything I wanted.

In our tribe, I'm an outlier. I'm nothing like my father and even less like the other women in the tribe. They are tall, round, and fleshy - the epitome of beauty - while I've always been frail and small. If it wasn't for the pallid spots lining my tawny skin, my bone straight charcoal hair, and my short, fluffy white-tipped tail and ears I wouldn't even be a Vyenn; I would be a stranger.

"Where are you hiding?" He sounds closer, and I shift uncomfortably on the grass. 

I hope Meben won't venture upon me. I've tried this with him before - planting tracks going in the wrong direction to throw him off course - so maybe he's growing weary of my tricks. I draw in a long breath of air, hoping that isn't the case. This is my only way to get away and I don't want to lose it.

I remain perfectly still until Meben calls out again, further away. He must have hit one of the other trails I placed. Hopefully, it's one of the ones that will lead him right back to the village and give me plenty of extra time to enjoy my solitude. I wiggle into a more comfortable position and enjoy my extra moments of peace.

"Saiea!" His voice grows even fainter and I laugh. It's a shame he can't boast to the whole village about how he tracked me down, saved me from the grave danger of kidnappers, and carried me home like the pitiful brainless woman damsel he sees me as.

If there's one thing I do like about Meben, it's fooling him and embarrassing him. Sending him down the wrong trails makes me feel like I'm not as useless as everyone thinks. So what if Meben was great at killing and following footsteps? I could outsmart him and send him down the wrong trail. Shouldn't that make someone proud?

My late mother probably would have giggled about it. When she was alive, she was the only person in the village I felt connected to. She told me stories the other tribespeople would laugh at. She taught me how to use rocks to draw pictures. She commended me when I found a way to lace the tribe's beads through my hair while still keeping it hanging straight down my shoulders.

When she left our world, living with my tribe felt devastatingly lonely.

A gentle gust of wind caresses my cheeks, brushing my hair across my nose. I wonder how far Meben is down the trail now, and how my father will look at him when he returns home without me.

If I wasn't the tribe leader's daughter, Meben wouldn't have any reason to even try to find me. There are plenty of beauties in the village who dance around his side and swoon over his hunting stories - women who are far more suited for him.

I shake my head, letting out a groan. Is it too much to ask to be with a man who finds me attractive and who wants to be loyal to only me? One who cares for me and doesn't restrict me from doing things I love?

My perfect mate would be like the forest. I'd seek comfort in his arms like I lay against the cushioned grass. I'd bask in his silence and seek solace in his stillness. He would listen and guide me, but not force me to do things I didn't want to do. He would have a slender body more like my own and opal skin like the wings of the Neyenflies.

The Neyenflies stir in the air above me like a pendulum, their thin wings sparkling in the sunlight, lulling my body into comfort. They have the freedom to control their own lives. I wish, more than anything, that I had that freedom. My eyes bat closed and I fall asleep.

And, during my slumber, the sun sinks below the horizon.