| 𝑃𝑎𝑠𝑡 𝐷𝑒𝑎𝑡ℎ'𝑠 𝐿𝑎𝑛𝑑 |

Chapter One.

Turbulent winds rocked the mossy moors, covered with heathers' and splattered with rock, whilst the thick fog danced around softly along with the much more wild wind. No sweet melody's of skylark's nor the rattle and skittatle of hares proleking around the moor could be heard with the bare ear, everything ever so silent apart from the faint whistling of which the wind provided, squeezing in and out of the tight fit of the ragged rocks nearby, a silent and steady killer to anyone who wouldn't pay attention to their surroundings.

Nevertheless, Katherine stood calmly alongside the tall grass, dotted with fresh dew, dressed in a light white nightgown, reaching up to her ankles and dressed with long sleeves. But she just stood, silent as can ever be. Katherine knew the moor like she knew her bedroom, knowing where every nest of a bird was and where every owl liked to hunt the best; where the most beautiful patch of heather grew and where you could see the sunrise at its most beautiful state.

Chestnut brown hair waved in the wind along with the fabric 0f the nightgown, brilliant green eyes shone in the rare light which found its way through the fog to the young girl. Feeling the moos and mud underneath her feet, smelling the freshness 0f the land and seeing its beauty even when hidden underneath the fog. She was the Alice in her wonderland, nothing could ever compare to the sights of this realm.

Where was she? She was at a moor, she knew nothing less and nothing more about her location, she only knew that she wouldn't want to go back home, she never did. But alas every beauty and good has an end, like all life it comes to a stop and end, the ever so familiar darkness consume it until it can return once more, brighter and much more vibrant, but it'll return, it was just that Katherine wasn't patient to wait for the return of her dreams.

It was at night when Katherine came to the moors, her dreams and the man in the mask always guided her here, away from her home in Texas and the pain the old house bore.

From the age of eleven, the young girl lived in a house that didn't like her there, it wasn't welcoming nor homely, just memories upon memories and memories of ache and guilt. Even if the house didn't want her there, it didn't let her escape, it shackled her to its walls, yet the man in the mask always had the key to the locks binding her, and he always bought her here to breath in good and go away from the stale bad.

Stepping forward she could feel the mass shift and tare underneath her feet, she moved along the stepped out oath she always took, walking slowly and steadily, not wanting to trip on the many pebbles that were carelessly placed all around. Katherine felt her lips tremble along with her limbs, limbs which bore many bruises which stood out against her darker skin, bruises which by now weren't an uncommon sign, it was much weirder if no bruise nor scratch was visible. She walked and walker, eyes wandering over the scenery and over the brush. The wind became much stronger at the angle of which the girl now stood, facing north and over the edge leading to a small ravine, cracks in the million old limestone.

Rose stained lips stopped quivering, emerald eyes closed and breathing slowed. Letting boiling liquid gold run down her cheeks and drop onto her gown, she prayed that this outing at the moor would maybe last a little longer this time maybe she would never wake up and just stay, she hoped that she wouldn't have to return home.

Katherine hated that her sleep only lasted eight or so hours, eight hours wasn't enough time spent here; yes it was cold, yes it was soggy at times but it was beautiful, unlike the old brown suburban in Dallas. But feeling the wind pick up furiously and the ground shake, she knew her prayers wouldn't be answered like the many more times. Eyes kept shut tight and hands squeezed into fists, the ground opened underneath Katherine and swallowed her whole. The sensation of falling was overwhelming and she couldn't help but let out a boiling scream, a scream which echoed and echoed through her bedroom and house as she woke up upright in her bedroom back home, clutching her chest and hair stuck to her wet cheeks.

"What in the world are you doing screaming at eight in the morning?" A man red in the face sneered as the door flung open, the door hit the wall and another fragment of the wall chipped off along with the pale yellow paint which decorated the room, in all the only colour in the room at all.

A little sigh escaped past those stained lips, hands manoeuvring over to her face to wipe away the tears and fix up her long hair. Voice cranky and sore as she answered to her paternal figure, "just a bad dream, dad." Half paying attention to the man, her head was full of thought, yearning to feel the rock under her feet and smell the morning drew. Even if her bed was warm and soft, pillows fluffed and clean she much more preferred to doze off underneath a cliff amongst the hates and mice. It wasn't that Katherine was ungrateful for her luxuries, it was just that she didn't like the luxuries.

The man bearing a hanging moustache and bald head shook his head and turned around to leave his daughters bedroom, but before he shut close the bedroom door he once again spoke, voice much soother and calmer, " You always have nightmares, Kath." And Ted was right, but Katherine herself wouldn't consider her expeditions nightmares, only the falling part of which consisted of her coming back here. Those dreams were out of this world, they were full of joy and good, only bad was that whenever Katherine spoke up about her happiness, to her school peers of family, it was always brushed off as sillily little tales and dreams an eighteen-year-old came up with for attention.

Her mother was the only one who believed her. But Katherine couldn't share this with her mother, Mary Jo, anymore as she died last June. Cancer had finally won the battle that had been going on for the majority of Katherine's life. It won the battle and put her mother in the cemetery among other sad stories.

Mary Jo was the only one who understood, but why?