The darkness melted away to reveal a pine forest, choked with green and brown needles that seemed to poke and prod every inch of my pale, feverish skin. Nothing but the cawing of a lone crow parted the chilled air, making me feel very much alone. This is what my fast-pumping heart told me, but my mind believed otherwise.


This was not the first time it had happened. There was no need to look behind me, check my back. There was no need to be afraid, no need to run as fast as my feet could carry me.


Yet I did. The repetitiveness of this, you would believe, would become positively monotonous, but there you are wrong. This occurrence was fresh to my nerves every time, and every time it would end the same.


And so I ran, weaving through the towering trees and dodging prickly branches. There was no sound of pursuit, but there was, in a sense, something there. What it was I can only guess.


As usual, my clumsy self trips over that stupid log. The same, fat, rotting log! I fell to the ground, scraping my shins on the fallen tree's bark and the needles sharp in my palms.


I was not quite ready to give up, nor was I out of precious breath. Some invisible force, though, kept me broken-spirited upon the ground. I squeezed my eyes shut, my blue eyes too afraid to look in the face of fear. Sobs of utter despair gathered heavily in my chest, and they also could not escape. The tears I wished to shed would not fall, and now it is far too obvious I could never win the battle. Victory was out of my reach, and the frightful thing could no longer continue its game of cat – and – mouse.


Suddenly, all the noise in the world, beautiful and horrible alike, ceased. A breathy voice of a thing hissed in my ear, as if it were a friendly reminder, "Do not be afraid."


I jerked up out of my dream.