Running. My bare feet brushing the soaked leaves off the Fridged, damp, winter ground, trembling as branches and shrubs, scratch and scrape my bare frozen legs, my long dark hair flipping up as I run, allowing the blistering winds to violate my neck, seeping into my shirt. Then… Nothing. It’s all gone. I’m falling unable to save myself. Darkness is everywhere, I can’t see but I feel I’m falling forever. Dying with each breath. My body paralyzed, Unaware of where I’m falling and why. Gravity starts to play as my body is being pulled down harder, and faster than before. I smash into a cold, hard, rock like surface. I shatter, my back in shreds, my hands full off cuts, my flesh is fresh with newly leaked blood. My throat collapsing as I attempt to swallow the thick blood escaping from my mouth. The smell of blood aches my stomach and my head… That’s when I recognized the agonizing pain pouring from the back of my head, hidden within the disgusting mess of tangled and frayed hair. Blood had been flowing from my scalp down the side of my beaten up face, trespassing onto my collarbone and down my chest. I bite my lip, trying to stand. But my failure puts me into deep, horrible pain. My legs, sore and full of thorns and filthy slices. I try to scream but nothing comes out, it was as if my throat was tied, not a single word came. Then, I hear it. Footsteps. Closer, and closer until they stop. The blurred figure right there in front of my bloody hands, sauntering in a swaying motion, I can hear the drag of one of it’s feet, and the crushing of what seems like gravel with every step. I reach up, searching for help, my mind still not functioning after the dramatic fall of pain. Still not aware of what is and will be to come, I feel the frozen, sharp metal against my sore throat. My mind racing with questions, but there is no need for answers now, I sense the tensing of the blade on me. I knew I was going to die right at that moment, and then it happened instantly, I feel the world darkening around me, I’m gone.
I jolt up in my bed. Gasping for a breath of fresh air, my arms flailing for something to hold and support me. I open my ancient feeling eyes to the bright, blazing rays of the golden sun bleaching the walls of my room with its radiant rays. I grip my stomach, it was as if all of the pain was all coming back with me to reality, it felt just so real. My legs too shaky to stand, so I sit in my bed until I can finally feel my toes. My hair is crinkled, and tangled out in all directions. I delicately run my fingertips over my stiff neck. I attempt to stand once more, I throw my dead legs over the side of my bed, I slide my body forward to the corner of the bed, allowing my feet to feel the soft rug beneath me. I grab onto the corner of my nightstand, letting the tiny bit of my arm strength pull me up. I stretch, even though my body is obviously telling me it is in pain, I extend my arms high into the air, I push up onto my tippy toes and put all of my energy and strength to unfold my body, I lay my lifeless feeling body back onto my bed, and I stretch out my solid spine. After the glorious feeling of life coming back to me, I slowly walk to the door, I turn the door knob open, and I begin to walk out of my warm room. I notice that nobody else is not awake yet. So I lay myself down on the dark brown, silky, comfortable couch. I lay there glaring off into the nothingness of life, I can hear the faint ticking of the old, wooden clock in the next room. I readjust my eyesight to my surroundings, the rug, in the middle of the living room where I lay on the couch coloured with more shades of browns, and reds. The curtains of satin silk draping over the windows, rejecting the brightness of the morning sun to leak in. a small table by the door where keys, wallets, and many small things are put. And of course the humungous painting hanging on the wall above the fireplace that I have always been curious about. The painting shows so many details, and the scene is so familiar, as if a place I used to know. The way the path curves, and the way the trees are always green and lush even during the cold winter seasons, and the little sweet looking lady tending her garden while the other townspeople in the distance take care of the market and farms, and many other things going on. Whenever I see this beautiful painting and it’s lovely, realistic details, I feel like I’m drifting off into the world itself, I feel like I belong there, like I was part of that place at that time....
To Be Continued...
