Cara starts her morning jog through Cumberland Park just as she would every Monday morning. She wipes the crust out of her eyes and looks around. The fog is settled on the ground covering the leaves, loose branches that normally covers the dirt trail. She ties her shoes her head still spinning from the night before, too many glasses of wine. After her break up with Joe she hasn’t been herself. Even going to the grocery store has become a daunting task. She has ignored all of the calls from her friends and family. Why is the need to be alone such a terrible thing? It should be. Joe broke off their engagement without an explanation as to why. After eighteen months she deserves an explanation one she has to realize that she’s never going to get. She wipes the tears from her face and continues her morning jog the leaves and fallen branches the air is cold especially around her feet where the fog has gathered. The Sun light peeks through the tall trees around her and for the first time in weeks she didn’t feel empty. She didn’t feel sad and she didn’t feel lost. She was free running in the woods with nature all around her. The sound of the branches breaking underneath her feet the leaves rustling in the wind, the birds chirping their sweet songs. She had new life coming into with every breath her jog becomes a full on sprint through the twists and turns of the trail everything around a swirling blur.
Until a high pitch wailing stops her in the tracks. She looks around there was nothing but her and the trees. Is it an animal? A deer maybe? It’s probably hurt, It’s not hunting season yet. If someone is trying to hunt this early the Cumberland Park Rangers are going to be called. It’s probably the Johnson’s they’re known for doing things like this. They have no respect for anyone or anything. She walked away from the trail toward the wailing. She walks slowly looking around just the occasional squirrel or rabbit but they are not in pain and even if so they can’t make a noise that’s going to project as loud as this. She ahead to the swirling piles of leaves moving in a perfect circle the fog moves away from this pile. She stops and stares at the pile of leaves the wailing is coming from the pile of leaves. Fear paralyzes her. What the hell can be in this pile of leaves? There’s not an animal in sight. She gathers the strength to walk towards the pile the air is warm and sticky in the circle. What kind of place is this? She looks down in complete shock. There’s a baby. A baby cradled in the pile of leaves wailing. There are markings all over number on their forehead and shapes on their wrists. She scoops the baby in her arms covering her tiny body in her arms.