Lillian Marie Krome woke up coughing and sobbing, in an inch of mud. Her long hair was tangled and dirty in front of her face, but it wouldn’t make much of a difference. Her eyes were dirty and wet and wouldn’t seem to focus.
She sat there. For a very long time, coughing and wheezing. She was too weak to move, but she was shaking. She was freezing, but she burned all over. Her hair uncomfortably stuck to her face, and her tight clothes itched against her skin. Suddenly she regained her senses and swiftly sat up. She lifted a muddy hand and did her best to push her hair out of her face. It tickled, but she paid no attention to it. She blinked hard, and started to take in her surroundings.
She wasn’t in mud, but wet sand and clay. Her shoeless feet were frozen in a shallow creek which ran loudly over small rocks and fallen sticks from trees. Lillian’s head was pounding like it never has. She looked down at herself. Her platinum blonde hair looked basically black, and it seemed to be cut off in different patches. She didn’t recognize the clothes she was in, so the rips and mud stains didn’t matter that much. Her ankles were tied separately with fishing line.
She started to half slide half crawl into the creek. Her need for water overwhelmed her like it never has. With every move she winced, her muscles were sore all over. Birds screamed at her, things seemed to rustle in bushes all around her. When she was finally close enough, she started to wash her hands, then her face, and then she started to drink. The thought of bacteria running through the stream never crossed her mind.
And she lay there, drinking, and washing the freezing water repeatedly over her face again and again. She started to feel her stomach fill up with each mouthful of water she swallowed back. Lillian was suddenly overwhelmed with the energy to stand. With great difficulties, she stood up. Each tiny movement her muscles screamed at her. She stumbled, but Lillian was on her feet. Then she started to scream.
