Voices

I was running across the old stone bridge, my feet slapping against the cold stone with every step. The cold, winter air nipping at my face as tears pricked my eyes. It was hard to believe that only hours ago I had been laying in bed with my mom before dad stormed in yelling at me to run. I hadn't even had time to change into warmer clothing. 

I stopped only briefly at the edge of the woods before entering. I glanced back, looking at the place I had once called home. Tears streamed like rivers down my puffy red cheeks. My house, my village all went up in orange, red and gold flams. Had it not been my home I would have called it a beautiful sight. But it wasn't.

The screams and cries of family, friends and others who lived in my mall village swarmed my ears. Drowning out my thoughts the screams began to haunt and engraved themselves into my mind.  Only seeming to fall silent to ears the deeper I ran, the farther I ran from home. 

I stopped by the old lake. My knees buckling under my weight I feel into the soft but bone-chilling blanket of fresh, white snow. Memories flashed through my mind. Fantome voices plagued me, the fearful screams. Clutching tight balls of my dark hair in my fists, I held my hands up to my ears. Failing at silencing the voices.

I crawled up to the closest tree pulling my legs up to my chest. Silent sobs racked my body. A twig shaping and leaves crunching brought me to my senses. I looked up briefly to see nothing but inky black. The trees, the river, the snow all gone. The only thing left that could have told me I had been in the snow was the nubbing feeling in my legs. 

I let out a shaky breath. The air around me came out in puffs of white smoke. Looking down the inky blake substance was covering my legs and slowly covering my body. Fear struck I froze. I was covered in the inky blake till nothing but my head was free. The last thing I saw before falling into the grasp of the black ink was two big bright ember eyes.