I put my suspicions to a test. I did not sleep. I did not eat. I didn’t clip my nails or wash my face, or do anything that fell under that category of human maintenance. Weeks went by, or at least I thought they did, but my stomach never rumbled and my eyes never grew heavy.
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Since no one had responded to me, I started to analyze the possibilities of what was actually happening to me. I wasn’t ready to accept the truth, so I stalled by sipping on my lukewarm coffee.
The Deva’s response wouldn’t leave my head. I realized the urgency of my situation, and that I might be this way, whatever it was, for a long time. As soon as I arrived home, I walked around to all of the nearby gardens to make sure and introduce myself. It became a daily habit for me to carry water to the plants and make sure they were thriving. They may be my only source of food very soon.
The mysteries were piling up. My car’s gas had barely moved even though I used it daily, and I noticed that my electricity kept humming on smoothly with no sign of slowing. Even the food in the fridge seemed to stay fresh and ripe.
I first heard it carried to me on the tree’s whispers. A sigh of exasperation, confusion, disbelief, and joy. My ears perked at the strange sound, and I breathed deeply for another clue of what it could be that had the trees so deeply gossiping.
I often explain to friends that I fully matured at 12. Instead of a long and gradual process, my mind snapped into its current state at once, when I was playing on the concrete slab that was our playground in small town, Illinois.