The world before me isn’t real—and I know that. But it feels real.
A little girl, maybe five or six, giggles as she runs barefoot through the tall grass, her wild hair bouncing behind her. She’s chasing a small white rabbit, her tiny hands reaching out with determination. The rabbit darts left, then right, and she squeals in delight before—thud—she trips and falls hard on her knees.
“Ow!” she cries, her small hands scraping the ground as tears fill her wide eyes.
“M!” a boy’s voice calls out. A boy, not much older than her, rushes over, his brows pinched in concern. “Stop crying. I promise I’ll protect you, okay?”
She sniffs and glares at him through her tears. “How are you gonna protect me? You’re just a kid.”
He puffs out his chest like a soldier and says proudly. “Have you forgotte
