Across Carina by Kelsey Hall

would find some blades of grass; but there was no sign of any. Nor was there a sign of any trees climbing out of the fog toward Carina. I heard no voices, felt no breeze, and saw no shapes of any kind, not even of distant buildings trying to hide in the fog. There seemed only to be the clay at my feet and the stars at my head.
    I hugged my knees to my chest. No dream of mine had ever lasted this long. I burst into tears, wondering what time it was on Earth and how many hours I’d been gone. My parents probably thought that I had run away, seeing as our last interaction had been an argument.
    I dissolved in self-pity, trying to empty myself of the tears that I’d been withholding. As my body weakened, I began to float again. I felt as cloudy as the fog that smothered me.
    I wondered if I would ever stop floating. I wondered about Garrett, if he too was alone on a strange planet with no one to catch his tears. Maybe that was how the world ended for everyone. Maybe I had met my end.
    And for what?
    I wondered if Garrett had been the one to change or if it had been me all along—all those years of disconnect between us. Maybe I had caused it, pushed him away, pushed him into the fire.
    I cried some more, but ultimately I knew that I couldn’t stay there crying. I wouldn’t achieve anything that way. And so I stood up and began to wade through the vibrant haze. The driver had said I couldn’t go back to Earth, but I at least had to try. I didn’t want my world to end this way.
    The fog was so dense I felt like I could touch it. So I tried. To my surprise, I caught a piece of the fog between my fingers. I grabbed a larger portion and bent it into various shapes and then flattened it out. It was very malleable and smelled of deliciously ripe mangos.
    At the thought of food, my stomach rumbled. I rolled the haze into a ball, grabbing the air for more until I had a ball the size of a real mango. Then I bit into it. Though there was no resistance against my teeth, I still tasted a mango’s thick, soft, and sweet flesh. I even pulled a few of its strings out of my mouth and watched them evaporate into the air.
    “Amazing!” I cried.
    An opening in the fog had appeared, and I thought that I could try eating more of the fog to form a wider path. I snatched the air around me, inhaling, rolling, and devouring it. With each mango I ate, my stomach filled, and the path widened into a spiral.
    Finally, I could see something. There was a forest just ahead. It was tall, and as thick as the mango mist.
    I had never been keen on wandering into forests alone. I was convinced that I’d see a witch. But behind me swirled red, orange, and green, and it made more sense to walk forward than backward.
    In I went.
    As I passed through the first set of trees, I heard their branches interlock behind me. I turned around, and there was no longer a way out.
    Fortunately, the forest remained well lit, even enclosed in its canopy of leaves. I turned back around to face the path ahead.
    The forest was transforming. Blue roses bloomed around a tiny koi pond nestled between two trees. Every leaf of every tree faded into red, orange, or green, apparent theme colors of The Mango Sun. Yellow lily petals drifted to the forest floor. Mushrooms as large as dogs sprouted, forming a path for me to walk. The mushrooms—some rounded, others flat—were red and speckled with white dots.
    Faintly, I heard rushing water. I raced toward the sound, shoving bright tree branches out of my way as I scampered up a hill. Leaves crunched under my bare feet. I hopped over a tree log in the middle of my path, and there it was—a pristine, violet waterfall. I had never seen anything so lovely.
    I reached for it, and the air breezed beneath me. I looked down, realizing that I couldn’t move any further. Half of my left foot was suspended over the edge of a cliff so steep that I could not see its bottom.
    I stepped back, but remained at the edge. There was a great canyon