Dreams to Reality | Stiles Stilinski

Nightmare or Reality

Run.

The singular verb repeated itself over and over in her head.

Run. Run. Run. Run. RUN!

She felt her chest begin to constrict, her airflow no longer at a steady pace. It was rampant, ragged. Yet, she willed, no forced, her legs to continue. That singular verb rattling around her brain at a fast rhythmic pace like a pervasive war drum.

She could no longer hear. A piercing ring bounced between her eardrums rattling her thoughts and disconnecting her from her reality.

Her vision blurred. She couldn't breath. The panic was debilitating. Her fight or flight instincts were no longer keeping her grounded to reality.

How was this her reality?

Her panic grew.

The fear she felt was so strong she had lost her senses.

It consumed her.

She could no longer feel the constricting of her lungs as she gasped for breath and could no longer feel the fiery burn of her calves and knees as she ran. The ringing became a new normal, and the blurred vision her saving grace as what she couldn't see couldn't hurt her. Right?

The only thing she could feel was the panic. No. Panic wasn't the right word. This was an innate fear buried deep within her. Something she had never felt before. Something her primitive ancestors must've felt as they were running from their predators. That's what this feeling was. A feeling of pure trepidation. The feeling of being somethings prey.

Her fear consumed her.

She was running around senseless, in a terror stricken trance. This trance had such a strong grip on her reality that she didn't even notice the tree root sticking out directly in her path.

That's when her senses came back to her. All she could feel was pain.

She had fallen forward harshly onto her knees. A tangled mess of torso, hair, and arms spread before her. A sense of relief washed over her at this new feeling. She had felt pain before but not like this.

She was hurt, bad.

The pain came as a distraction. She was no longer stuck in a debilitating cycle of fear. But when she saw what approached she no longer wished for the pain.

At a hasty pace she scrambled backwards as a new word began to hurl itself around her brain.

No!

No. No. No. No! NO!

The figure had finally caught up to her. Finally caught it's prey, and when it raise it's claws to end the chase, to end her life, a new thought had formed:

I Don't Want to Die.