I WOULD LIKE TO ADD THE EVENTYDE BRIDGE TO MY COLLECTIVE LIST OF BAD DECISIONS.

My first reaction is visceral — a tight squeeze in my chest bounded by syncopated leaps of the heart. Then, it's panic. Pure, expressive panic.

My hand clenches the rope railing as I stare at the dense forest in front of me. The blue butterflies continue to flutter around the trees before migrating towards a clear stone path. One step off the bridge and I'll definitely be standing in uncharted territory.

This isn't Eventyde. Nothing about this forest resembles Eventyde.

And yet, the thought of turning back doesn't cross my mind. There's a pull that urges me to keep walking — a sweet lull that coaxes the most curious temptation out from the depths of my soul.

Leaves crunch underneath my shoes as I release a deep breath and take the first step off of the bridge and onto the stone path. Without giving in to the hesitation of looking back, my feet continue to trail through the forest, carefully treading over large roots and hovering branches. With each daunting step, the greenery graduates from familiar green to hues of red: pink leaves, maroon tree trunks, and cherry-colored bushes. Golden light filters through the unusual vegetation, pale orange streaks scattering throughout the clearing.

The quietness here is different from Eventyde. It's more solemn and deliberate. Back there, the silence resulted from the lack of visitors, but here, in whatever sort of Other World I've stumbled into, there's a sense of comfort laced in the oxygen, bringing a steadiness over my mind with each slow inhale.

What is this place?

"Hey, stop it! That tickles!"

A voice to my far left makes me halt in my steps. It's deep and masculine, but pants and high whimpers can be heard past bubbly giggles — two different voices.

"I didn't think you'd be this forward when thanking a stranger."

Oh my God. Please don't tell me I've stumbled into something obscene.

With my ears turning the blushing shade of the trees, I quickly avert my gaze to the ground and rush down the stone path until I approach a steep, expansive hill with strange-colored grass, mingling between shades of summer yellow and minty green. And the view of the valley beneath my feet is something I've only ever seen in movies: mountains that graze the clouds and a waterfall dipping into a thin stream of aqua blue to chase the horizon. Dispersed among either side of the river are clusters of red and orange trees, gently swaying with the cool wind.

The moment is interrupted when something rustles behind me, and my body whips around towards the noise on instinct. The bushes move again and round emerald eyes pierce through the leaves.

Then, a low growl and a sneeze, followed by a round peach-colored furry ball rolling out from the bushes.

My eyes widen at the creature before me: a tiny fennec fox with long triangular ears and a brown button nose. A bandage is wrapped around its hind leg as it teeters towards me with a limp. The bright blue tips at the ends of its ears twitch while curious eyes blink at me.

My voice, unsure whether to scream at the bizarre sight or melt at the adorable creature, gets stuck in my throat, coherent words unable to escape my barrier of bewildered shock.

"No, wait! Where are you going? You can't—oh!" A tall boy emerges from the trees, chest heaving while he catches his breath. His gaze darts from the cute fox to me. "Uh... hi."

Black hair swoops over his forehead, coffee eyes, sun-kissed skin, and a loose, dark sleeveless t-shirt with a band logo covering his broad shoulders. I can tell he's not from this particular world given his attire, and from the stare he reciprocates, it's obvious he realizes the same for me as well.

Like a deer caught in headlights, my feet stay grounded as I try not to stare at the lean muscles of his biceps. "Hi."

The boy takes a few cautious steps and scoops the small fox into his arms, being careful not to touch the injured leg. After giving the animal a good scratch under the chin, he smiles when it swipes its tiny pink tongue over his jaw. "Who are you?" he then asks me. "How did you get here?"

"Oh, um, there's a bridge." I look back at the stone path to show him the clear view of the bridge from the other side of the forest—

—but it isn't there.

It's gone. Eventyde Island is gone, and all that remains is a sharp cliff that would most definitely have me plummeting to my death.

"Oh my God. Wh—I swear there was a bridge. Right there! Like, two minutes ago!"

Confusion darts across his features. "The bridge...? Wait, you saw it too?"

"What do you mean?"

"My friends couldn't see it. Three days ago when I tried showing them, they pulled me back saying I was gonna fall in the ocean. I felt like I was hallucinating at first, but... you're saying you saw it too."

There's only one thing on my mind right now, and it doesn't concern the mysterious visibility. "Okay, it's great that, you know, we aren't imagining things, but now it's gone! How — how am I supposed to get back? I have final exams in six fucking days!"

Unaffected by the possibility of being stuck here, he simply shrugs. "It'll appear when the sun sets. It always does."

"But it already did. That's when I saw the bridge."

"Not our sun. That one." He points to the lavender circle floating in the pink sky, it's crepuscular rays extending out from beneath the billowy clouds to form an angelic halo around the valley. It's a miracle I didn't notice it before given the enormous size of the damn thing.

But the way he's talking about this place is starting to concern me because as strangely beautiful as this forest is, for all I know, this isn't even Earth, and the purple sun is an indication of that.

A headache looms between my brows and behind my eyes. All I want is a nice break from my life, but instead, I've found myself in who-fucking-knows-where with a baby fox and a boy who still hasn't told me where he's from.

The corners of my mouth dip into a frown. "So... you're telling me we're both stuck here until the bridge comes back?"

As the boy sits on the ground and leans back on his hands, the fox trots over to his lap and curls into a ball. "For the next, like, five hours, yeah."

My thoughts run fast as more questions formulate in my head. What's he doing here? Where is he from? Is he the one who dressed the fox's wounded leg? Why don't other people see this bridge? Is any of this even real or am I having a vivid dream?

"If you've been here before, do you know what this place is?" I ask, sitting down a few feet away from him.

The fox starts to dig at the yellow blades of grass between us with its little paws.

"Narnia."

"I'm sorry, what?"

He laughs at my reaction. "Kidding. I actually don't know. I only found this place a couple of days ago. I saw this view, thought I was really high because, well, there's a purple sun and yellow grass and red trees. But then the bridge was gone and then I bumped into this little guy and his injured leg and... yeah. Definitely wasn't drugs." Looking out towards the valley, a gentle smile reaches his lips. "Whatever this place is... I like it. It's a nice place to think."

His words cause bitter bile to rise up my throat. "Ew. That's exactly what I wanted to avoid doing."

Another chuckle. "I'm Clark, by the way."

"Karina." Then, after a sigh, "Well, Clark, I'm not gonna lie — I thought the possibility of finding a magic fairy here was higher than finding another person."

He raises a brow, the peach fox following suit by raising its ears and releasing the biggest squeak its tiny body can muster. "A fairy? You thought I was a fairy? Even after the blatantly obvious Rolling Stones shirt I'm wearing? You're funny, Karina."

My suspicions about this forest I'm stuck in still remain just as prominent as when I walked across the bridge. But one thing is clear: meeting Clark ignites the realization that this can't just be a mere figment of my imagination. And the fact that we're the only two that are able to see and cross the bridge to get here means something, though neither of us is entirely sure what that something is.

Maybe this wasn't such a bad idea after all. How can it, when the rules of the universe are telling me otherwise?