She awoke with a start, her small hut echoing her scream around her. The night was cold, and her ragged breathing cut through the air like a knife. The dream was the same as all the ones before. She stood in the forest, it's trees creaking and groaning with every wisp of wind that passed by. The air was warm, but she felt cold at her core. A voice, a cruel, cruel voice whispered near her. It whispered lies, lies she dare not want to hear. She did not feel the tears falling, but they did nonetheless. Her body was frozen in place, but her mind was screaming at her to move, move for god sake. The voice grew louder, and with it more lies came, each crueler than the last.
Her throat was closed, she couldn't breathe. She clawed at her neck, her nails digging into skin and ripping it down with each swipe. She screamed silent cries. Chills trickled down her spine, slowly, wanting her to feel each drop of fear they gave.
It ended as it always did, the voice spoke one last lie, and then it screamed. When she awoke, she would find that it had not been the voice screaming, but her. Her mother would comfort her, whispering sweet things that did nothing to soothe her. She would forget the nightmare, for her family's sake, and proceed with her day as normal.
The voice followed her, quietly in the darkness of her thoughts. She gathered wood along the edge of the forest that surrounded her small village, as she did everyday. Today, however, she ventured further into the woods.
The voice stopped when she entered. She took a startled step backwards, back into the village borders, and the voice resumed.
Tentatively, she stepped further into the dark forest, watching each step as she did. She stopped beside a large oak tree, one that looked oddly familiar, she thought. She pushed it aside. For the first time she was uninterrupted by the demon in her head. She breathed in the warm air, it hugged her body like a blanket.
The trees stood tall, barely a ray of sunlight reaching beyond their thick foliage. She thought it odd that it was so warm in a place that did not enjoy much sunshine. In fact, she realized, it should be cold.
She took a slow look around her, her core chilling more as she took in what laid there. The oak tree, the boulders, the clearing, all looked almost as familiar as her mother. A burst of wind shook the trees. Rain droplets fell upon her, soaking her garments, and chilling her once warm body.
The wind sounded as though it were whispering, like her mother did when she had her nightmares. A chill ran through her body, and she could feel her heart leap into her throat. The wind continued to whisper passed her ears, but a new voice joined.
"Death," the voice shrieked, "she wishes death."
She tried to cover her ears, but she could not move. Her body was frozen in place.
"A hero, she thinks, a hero." The shrill speech pierced through the mind. "She thinks a hero she is. Ha." The voice laughed.
She shook her head, banishing the voice from her mind. "It's only a dream. Wake up." She chanted at herself, praying to wake in her mother's arms.
"A dream. A dream, she thinks, The one who wishes death thinks she's allowed to dream."
"It's not real, it's only in your head." She yelled at herself, willing the voice away. Her legs threatened to give in.
"Of course I'm in your head," The voice explained, "where else would I be."
She did not respond. Her throat began to close, hindering her breathing. She began to claw, just as she had always done.
"Why did you walk out here today? Why aren't you running back to your little village? Is it because you don't want to go back?" The voice pressed on.
"Shut up." She said through gritted teeth.
"Why would anyone want you back, anyways."
"Stop it." She said louder.
"The one who wishes death thinks that others would wish it too." The voice got closer.
"Stop!" She screams, tears falling down her stained cheeks.
"The one who wishes death says stop."
"Please." She cried weakly.
"Why would I stop when the one who wishes death wants me to talk?" The voice asked with almost a sense of confusion.
"You're lying!"
"Why would I lie?" The voice asked quietly, whispering so lightly that she instinctively leaned in. "Why would I lie when the truth is so much worse?"
She did not speak, her tears falling instead.
"Look at me."
"No." She replied weakly.
"Look at me." The voice grew louder, angrier.
"No." She yelled, her eyes squeezing tighter.
"Look at me!" The voice screamed a deep, chilling scream.
Slowly she dropped her hands from her ears and lifted her eyelids. What she saw was not a dark figure, wrapped in black shawls with a distorted face, but that of her own.
She looked in the face of herself and saw nothing but malice. Her face was that of her own, but her eyes were dark.
Without a second thought she ran the opposite way, ignoring the screams the voice sounded. She was praying to wake up. She tried everything, but she continued to run.
Even as she reached the village, crowded by her family and friends, she did not wake.
She would never wake, for the voice was right, this was no dream. She was not allowed to dream.
