I

The absurdity of my situation was becoming overwhelming as I recalled the events of the past week. If I had forgotten something as simple as using a telephone, I rationalized, then it had to be a possibility that I had also forgotten other critical elements that would have made the answers to my questions easy and apparent. Following that train of thought, I began to question my own sanity, debating the legitimacy of my perspective in the situation at hand. Maybe I didn't know what was going on at all any more because I was crazy. Maybe she'd left me, and I'd blocked it out, not wanting to go through it all over again, and my ridiculous quest was the final sign, physically manifested, of my psychological break. It had to be a possibility. I couldn't rule that out.

II

I looked over at Janine, sleeping silently on the ground across from me, and then checked on Hunter as well. He was also asleep, and he was snoring quietly. It was too cold out for there to be a lot of insect noise in the woods, unlike what you'd hear in the summertime, when a wall of organic sound would surround you, singing in your ears like nature's lullaby, whispering you to sleep. Instead, there was a peaceful but strange silence, broken only by the sound that we made at our temporary camp in the ravine's bottom. The fire crackled. Hunter snored. Janine rolled over in her bag.

III

This was too real, though! I wasn't imagining it.

I wasn't charismatic enough, no matter what, to convince Janine to come along with me, especially with all that we'd discussed. She came along because something really was going on that wasn't easily explained. Removing her from the equation still didn't change the fact that Hunter believed me and had also extended an offer to assist us. I didn't think all three of us were suffering from the same delusion, the odds in favor of that occurrence made it next to an impossibility. But how could I forget something so obvious?