Lost
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It was late fall when we got attacked the rebellions it took several weeks to recover from the attack it was brutal,We lost are best man and we were attached again and we were forced to leave the area we were in the middle of no were,we were hungry,thirsty,it was about 100 degrees outside.It became fall then winter, winter was very brutal we lost 3 of are men from hypothermia and some got frost bite on there hands and feet and I the leader of the group I tried to keep every one warm, then came spring were it got warmer witch was good for us. Later that year we were able to join a group and we got help from them they gave us food and water and weapons. They gave us a good place to sleep, so we all got so rest, we also got little heaters in our cabins we were able to stay there for that year and we got a choice ether to stay or leave after that year we did stay and we were able to keep are room forever, I was thankful for them helping us out we got what we needed and we got new clothes.
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My dream continued the one I'd been having for the past couple of nights. I ran, gasping for breath, through the familiar woods from a dark figure behind me. The faster I tried to run, the slower I seemed to go, until it was like I was running in place. I knew I needed to run. I was terrified of what the figure would do when he caught me. "Mara Leigh," a deep, smooth voice called. It was almost hypnotic. That was new. The figure had never spoke before now. I ran as fast as I could go, eyes searching the forest floor for a big stick or something that I could use to defend myself. "Mara Leigh!" the voice came again, this time more insistent. The forest slowly started to fade and I started to awake to someone shaking my shoulders. "Beau?" I mumbled, turning my head to the side. What's Beau doing in my room this time of night? Why is he shaking me? "Do not call me that name." My eyes flew open as I jumped at the voice from my dream. A face was right in front of mine, and just like the voice, it wasn't Beau. Before I could form a scream, a hand covered my mouth. I tried to bite it but I couldn't get my mouth to open. He's too strong. I started to use my whole body to try to get away, but he crawled on top of me, holding me down. I pulled the hidden knife out from under my pillow and slashed as hard as I could at him, but he just grabbed my wrist and squeezed it until the pain made me drop the knife. Then he grabbed both my hands in one of his and held them over my head. He held me down while I struggled. I grunted and moved and tried to kick and scream, but I only wore myself out. Exhausted, I stopped thrashing and let the tears flow freely down my cheeks. I didn't know what to do, so I just tried to prepare myself for whatever was coming.
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