Only a dream

Chapter 12

(A/N) This chapter is dedicated to @Clau125 :)

Darkness. Cold, black, unforgiving darkness. It's everywhere, sometimes it's just hides from you; sneaking off into the corners, creeping ever so quietly under your bed, locked away in your closet. You never realize that it's there, until it wraps its devilish, icy fingers around your neck and pulls you under into a deep, unimaginable sleep.

You see, darkness is its own thing, a creature of free will. It silently sneaks up on you when you least expect it. It's like a living being, gruesome at some times yet joyful at others.

Darkness is its own creation. Kind of like a butterfly. Darkness spreads its wings and flys away, leaving you in it's dust to die. Darkness is what I face right now. It surrounds me, drowns me. It swallows me up into a hole of nothing. I can't see, can't hear, can't feel. There's an infinite space of emptiness. And then there's me, floating among the ocean of darkness, like a fish alone I'm the sea. No thoughts flow through my mind, I don't think about today or tomorrow or yesterday. Instead, fly deeper into the cracks of my mind, as far as I can go. Crawling through memories from another time. I'm lurking in the farthest possible place I can be I'm my brain, my dreams.

~Im in the rain. It's storming. The sky is dark, the colour of charcoal. Wind furiously whips dark green the ankle-high grass in all directions. Little clear droplets of falling water, rain, fall onto my body and roll down to the ground.

Thunder bursts in the sky, threatening to erupt from the clouds as a bright bolt of lightning whizzes from up high every few seconds. A jolt is thrown through my body, I still hate thunderstorms.

A tree sits a hundred yards away from me, a willow. A familiar willow. It's branches are slender and gnarled, splaying in all directions. It's bark is withered and fading, a light brown instead of dark. The willow has no leaves, they've all fallen gracefully to meet the dirt above the roots. She's here too. Standing still as a statue directly beneath the wary, old tree. Her eyes stand out like a gunshot. Bluer then the bluest ocean, brighter then the brightest light. They are blinding. I'm glad that mine are green, for now.

Her hair is still as black as night, and as straight as a pencil. A sharpened, weapon-ready pencil, that is.

She is also wearing that long, white, frayed dress. The one with the bloodstain. It's like an intricate design, a work of art that is painting the fabric with delicacy. But it's not.

I begin to run towards her, but not out of curiosity, like the first time. I'm sprinting towards her, towards the girl that wants me dead with fury, rage and vain. I will not die.

My bare feet slap the soaking grass with thunderous, meaningful steps. I glance down at myself as I run. I stop mid step. I'm wearing the dress. Her dress. My own bloodstain trickling along the white canvas of the dress. No. It's not mine.

I keep running, harder and faster, my heart thumping louder then the frightful thunder booming over my head. My blood scorches through my vein at an alarming rate, adrenaline feeling my heart. And anger.

I continue to sprint, ignoring everything around me. I'm only focused on her, nothing else. Darkness grasps everything else. But not her. Not her sickeningly blue eyes, not her as-white-as-snow skin. Not her pale pink lips that are curled into her mocking, deceitful smirk. I see her as clear as day.

And I continue to run, full speed, towards my enemy. The enemy that wants me dead for reasons known only to her.

My hair slaps at my cheeks, flying behind me. My lungs burn like an eternal fire. My head throbs. But I continue. I'm close. So close. A few more feet.