Screams.
I lick my chapped lips, urging to use the lip balm I'd left at home. – I doubt I’d be needing any time soon, whatever stimulated those screams would be coming for me at any moment now. It’s been a long time since I had been as scared as this, but now it feels like I’m back as my nine-year-old self, cowering from whatever I thought was under my bed, in my wardrobe – behind the door, in the bathroom.
They're coming closer...
So many things had happened in that bathroom, they only added to my already troubled childhood. I remember the day so clearly now, the day before I would turn eight years old – the day when I wanted my life to be over; I miss him so much, maybe he’s watching over me now: I could never look at that belt again, it hurt so many people. Dark gloom floods my mind, making this flawed existence seem like heaven, and, as the foreboding clouds begin their descent, my mind is set at ease – for I know his suffering is over now, it wasn’t my fault.
Where's it coming from?
The fresh, green grass seems like it's towering over me now, mocking me, overpowering the rest of my senses. I focus solely on the humid air and the large, open plain surrounding me.
They’re getting louder now!
Running into the hut, escaping the screams – or whatever encouraged them – was the only thought in my head now; the ancient stones, engraved with tribal messages, put together to build this place, looked steady enough – at least, they wouldn’t crumble to pieces if I stepped inside of them. Which is good enough for me.
Black.
