A Fox Carrying His Own Foot

Walking through my childhood neighborhood, I see a guy I used to know from my elementary school, KL. He is with a girl standing by a trail I used to frequently take to school. He turns to me and points to the woods.

“Be on the lookout for a fox carrying his own foot through the forest.” He says to me.

I walk into the forest and I see the fox scurrying through the bushes carrying his foot in his mouth. I run after him and come to a clearing. Someone I love dearly is laying on the ground next to a marsh, bleeding black gooze everywhere. I slam down beside her lay on top of her and scream, “No! You can’t die! You can’t die!” And then I wake up.