It was that same day again, November the seventh, and I didn't expect that would change my life in a blink because of a photo.

That day, my instinct dictated what I should do. I packed my backpack and filled it with stuff for my solo picnic: a blanket, face towels, some sandwiches, a couple of books, and, of course, some water. Then, I went to the kitchen to bid my grandma goodbye. She handed me her favorite basket woven from flax.

"Fill this with beautiful flowers you'll find along the way," she said.

I took the basket and hugged her tight before putting on my hiking gear. I grabbed my camping set on my way out.

I had always loved staying at my granny's house to celebrate my birthday. I didn't want to be out in a bar drinking and being wild with my friends. I'd rather spend time with the literal wild animals in the forest, close to nature. The best place for me to be one with the environment was in Granny's humble abode, a house in the middle of the meadow surrounded by tall trees, away from a concrete jungle.

City life for a country girl like me was a bit too much. It was too boisterous and chaotic - things I couldn't stand being in. I needed to go to a university. I had no choice but to stay there.

I was already a few steps away from Granny's place when a bush of wild tiger orchids caught my attention. Its yellow petals with brown spots were like dancing fairies, waving at me to pluck them. I didn't stop despite the strong pull of interest towards the flower. I went on my journey.

The whistling cool breeze of the mountains was calling me. The swaying, dancing branches of the gigantic trees beckoned me to follow them so I could dance with nature. The melodious singing birds pitched their most lovely tune to invite me to come over.

'I'll just pick those flowers on my way home,' I told myself. That was at least I knew I did, but the butterflies in my stomach stirred when someone - a tiny voice - whispered in my ear.

"Pick them now to save yourself from harm. Those flowers will be your lucky charm."

"Who's there?" I called out as I looked behind me. I shook my head in disappointment seeing only bushes and vines aside from trees. "I must be hungry. I'm hearing things."

Dried twigs and branches crunched under my boots as I paced toward the dense forest. Although my heart still drummed in my chest, I ignored the previous event.

I kept walking, following the direction of the wind.

I reached another glade in no time.

Smiling ear to ear, I hurriedly unpacked my blanket, spread it on the grass-carpeted ground, and sat there while preparing my breakfast.

I always loved to be one with nature, but I couldn't explain why. Something inside me rejoiced whenever I thought of trees and the forest. It felt like I came from them... as if I was the child of the wilderness.

After setting up my tent, I went for a walk with my umbrella. Who knew when the rain would fall? I could also use it as my walking stick if I needed to climb a steep slope.

I was so enthralled while walking through a pathway filled with a gallimaufry of flowers; I couldn't decide which one to pick first because all of them were magnificent. They even glistened like diamonds under the early morning rays.

Wait. The flowers were shimmering!

I rushed to the bushes to check if my eyes were playing tricks on me. And they weren't.

"How could this be?" I gasped.

"You're finally seeing it," someone said. It was the same voice from earlier.

This time a silhouette stepped out of the bushes of the floras I was looking at. It was a talking tree.

A talking female tree!

Its femme fatale feature was perfectly curved in the proper places. It was curvy from the chest down to the hips. The branches of its canopy moved in two ways, left and right, forming her two arms. Her roots also turned into her legs and feet as she walked closer to where I stood.

A woman's head slowly protruded out from the trunk. The floating leaves from the split branches gathered over the head of the creature forming a bushy wavy hair. Even though a full transformation had taken place, the female's skin remained as it was, a tree bark.

My reflexes were quick to speed away from the weird creature. I sprinted and scampered away like a frightened deer that had seen a hunter.

"Gabby, wait!"

I heard her call, but I ignored her. I kept running until I reached a deserted cemetery.

There was a cemetery in the middle of this forest!

Though shocked, I kept walking until I stumbled upon a graveyard. And on the tombstone was scribbled the name 'Gabrielle Danes'. My jaw dropped.

'Why was my name written on someone's tombstone?'

'Why was my photo and birthday in there, too?'

My brain exploded. 'Boom!'

My knees buckled as my feet turned icy and glued to the ground. I was lost for words. Then, my surroundings swayed and spun like I was sucked into a whirlpool until everything went black.

**

When I opened my eyes, the familiar vibe of my room back at Grandma's house greeted me.

My old lady smiled. I didn't see it because I didn't scan the surroundings. I just knew she did.

"Oh, my! Good thing you're back," she said.

"How did I get here?"

"Long story. You passed out because of exhaustion."

She was lying. We both knew I was fit enough not to be unconscious on my camping trips.

"I saw my name and photo on a grave," I exclaimed - no beating around the bush.

"Ah. So, you've found it."

I got up at her response. She didn't seem surprised.

"What do you mean, I've found it?"

Without a word, Grandma walked out of my room. And when she went back, she had a mirror with her.

It was the first time I saw a mirror in her house.

She handed me the mirror.

Confused. I check myself in the mirror.

Blue eyes that reflected unfathomable sadness stared back at me. I touched my face. It was smooth but for some reason, it was getting uncomfortably soft.

"That face and name weren't yours. You just borrowed them from the girl who died several years ago," Grandma said.

After she said that, something itchy pricked my skin. And that itch spread all over my body. I scratched every part I could reach. But every time I touched each part, something would crack like it was breaking on my skin. The crackling continued as if crevices on my began to form.

I checked myself in the mirror once more. Disbelief registered on my face when I stared at it.

The round thing in my hand reflected a tree trunk with a woman's face. The woman I saw earlier.

"What's going on?" I cried, and when I tried to wipe my tears, I saw a branch with twigs instead of a hand with fingers.

"Your glamour has worn out. You're not going back to the city," Grandma said. "You're always one with nature. But you've always wanted to be around humans."

"I don't understand."

"Gabrielle Danes was my real granddaughter, not you." Grandma filled her lungs with the minty forest air before speaking. "You belong to the tree people. The real Gabby and you used to be playmates. Well, you would approach her whenever she visited me. And I've grown fond of you, too."

I couldn't find the words to respond. If I belong to the tree people's community, why couldn't I remember that life then?

"You have always thought of being a human," Grandma said as if she read my mind. "You can copy human form. That was what you did, so you could play with Gabby without her being afraid of you."

"How? Why did she die?"

Silence echoed in the room. Tension followed, making the air in the room too dense to breathe.

"One fateful day," Grandma sniffed. Tears welled in her eyes. "You asked Gabby to play with you near a cliff and..."

My head throbbed. Then a glimmer of a lightning-like thing flashed in my head. A glimpse of the past rushed and flooded my mind.

"No! I'm sorry. I didn't mean to," I cried. "Stop this, please."

"That day, your inner demon took over your kind heart. You pushed my Gabby down the rocky cliff, and you pretended to be her since then."

"I'm sorry, Grandma! I'm sorry."