She couldn’t remember how she got here.


One minute, she was flying high on the swings, her brother’s laughter ringing in her ears as he pushed her higher and higher. The sun was warm on her face, her friends were playing nearby, and everything felt like one of those perfect days she wished could last forever. And then… it all disappeared.


Now, she stood alone in a dark, silent forest. The trees were tall and twisted, their branches reaching out like claws, blocking out most of the light. The air felt heavy and thick, like it was pressing against her skin. Her heart raced as she spun around, looking for her brother, for anyone familiar.


But there was no one. The world around her felt wrong, twisted, like a nightmare she couldn’t wake up from.


She touched her head, her fingers trembling as she reached for her cochlear implants. She touched them gently, just to be sure they were working. For a moment, the sounds around her—the rustling leaves, the distant wind—came through distorted, like she was underwater. The world felt far away, muffled. Her breath hitched, and she tapped the implants again. The sound cleared, but it didn’t make her feel any safer. Everything was still too quiet.


Where was her brother?


She called out, but her voice seemed to disappear into the thick air, swallowed up by the trees. Panic tightened in her chest. She wasn’t used to silence like this, not anymore. Since she got her cochlear implants when she was one, the world had been filled with noise—good noise. Her brother’s voice, her mom’s laugh, the wind, the birds. But now, the quiet felt too big, too empty.


A shiver ran down her spine, and for a brief moment, she wanted to cry. But she was strong. She had to be. Her mom always said she had a fierce spirit, that she could do anything. And her brother? He always told her, “You can hear differently, but that doesn’t stop you from being the bravest.”


So, she wiped her eyes, took a deep breath, and started walking.


The forest was dense, each step making the leaves crunch loudly under her feet. Every now and then, the sound twisted, like her implants were catching something strange, something not quite right. She tapped the implants again, but nothing changed. She hated that distorted sound, the way it made everything seem off-balance.


She walked for what felt like hours, the trees around her closing in, the light fading. It was getting darker, colder. The wind picked up, swirling through the branches, and for a moment, she thought she heard something. A voice? No, just the wind twisting through the leaves, making strange, low whispers.

She stopped, her heart pounding in her chest. “Hello?” she called out, her voice trembling.


Nothing. Only the wind.


Her throat tightened. She touched her implants again, maybe they were broken. Maybe she wasn’t hearing things properly. The panic bubbled up, and she took the implants on and off, trying to make the world sound normal again. But the wind kept twisting, the leaves kept whispering, and her heart felt heavy with fear.


Suddenly, through the trees, she saw a faint glow. Her heart jumped. Light. Maybe someone was there! Maybe her family!


She ran toward the light, her bare feet slipping on the damp ground. As she got closer, she realized what it was—a tent. Her family’s tent. The same one they used when they camped in the forest.


Her heart pounded with hope as she raced toward it, pulling open the flap. But inside… it was empty. The sight of the empty sleeping bags made her chest ache. She felt the tears welling up again, but she bit her lip and held them back.


She curled up inside the tent, pulling her knees to her chest, the world outside so quiet it felt suffocating. She hated the silence. She hated how alone it made her feel.


Just as the first tear slipped down her cheek, she heard a rustling sound outside the tent. Her body tensed. Was it an animal? She peeked out, her heart racing.


Standing at the edge of the clearing was a fox. Its orange fur glowed faintly in the dim light, and it was staring at her with bright, curious eyes. It didn’t look like any fox she had ever seen before. It seemed... different.


She stepped out of the tent, wiping her tears with the back of her hand. The fox tilted its head, then slowly turned and began to walk away, pausing to look back at her, like it wanted her to follow.


She hesitated for a moment. Could she trust it? But what choice did she have? She didn’t know where else to go. And besides, something deep inside her told her to follow.


She hurried after the fox, her feet moving over the damp ground, the leaves crunching beneath her. The wind twisted again, and the sounds of the forest flickered in her ears, as if the world was playing tricks on her. She tapped her implants again, but nothing changed. It felt like the sound itself was distorted, like the forest wasn’t quite real.


The fox led her to a lake, the water dark and still, reflecting the sky above. And there, at the shore, was her family’s canoe.


Her heart leapt. It was a way out. She knew it.


She ran to the canoe, her breath coming in short bursts, her hands shaking as she untied it from the post. The fox sat nearby, watching her with those glowing eyes. She didn’t have time to think about what it all meant. She just needed to get across the lake.


She paddled hard, the water rippling beneath the canoe as it glided across the surface. Her implants buzzed softly in her ears, picking up the rhythmic splash of the paddle cutting through the water. The quiet was heavy, but not as lonely now. She was moving forward. She was doing something.


As she reached the far shore, her breath caught in her throat. There, standing at the water’s edge, was her brother. His face lit up in the soft glow of the moon, his arms waving frantically.


“BROTHER!” she shouted, her voice filled with relief.


He grinned and waved her over. She paddled faster, her heart bursting with happiness. When she reached the shore, she jumped out of the canoe and ran to him, throwing her arms around him.


“I thought I lost you!” she cried, her words muffled by her sobs of relief.


He hugged her tightly, squeezing her so hard she could barely breathe. “I was looking for you too! But don’t worry, we’re going home.”


“How?” she asked, pulling back to look at him.


He smiled and held up a small lantern. The light flickered gently, casting a warm glow over them. “We’ll follow the light. We’ll find our way together.”


She nodded, trusting him completely. Hand in hand, they walked back through the forest, the lantern lighting their way. The twisted trees no longer seemed so scary, and the whispers in the wind faded into soft, comforting sounds. She checked her implants once more, and for the first time in hours, the world sounded clear again. Everything was as it should be.


As they stepped out of the forest and back into the familiar playground, the swings swaying gently in the breeze, her heart swelled with happiness. The sun was shining, her friends were playing, and her brother was by her side.


“We made it,” she whispered, her voice full of awe.


Her brother ruffled her hair with a grin. “Of course we did. We always do.”


She smiled, the warmth of the sun on her face, the sounds of the world clear in her ears. In that moment, she knew that no matter how lost she got, no matter how strange or scary the world became, she would always find her way back. Because she was strong. She was brave. And she had her family by her side, always guiding her home.