Her head swished around, a halo of red amidst the foggy forest. Her face was crumpled into worry. Something sharp grazed her leg. She let out a scream as she turned to the invader, but she found herself facing a large branch, a pointy stalk had ripped a part of her skirt. She stepped away from the branch before turning around again.
Her heart slammed against her ear, her eyes darting everywhere. Grey, black, the colors made her dizzy. Her eyes started to sting as panic tried to claw up, its talons grazing her throat, begging to escape. She took a deep breath and swallowed. She would not let it overcome her. Control her.
Her hands turned into fists. Cold started to snake underneath her coat and gown, kissing her skin, whispering into her battered armor. To give in. To give up.
She shook her head. But the air seem to have their own words, and its whispers are getting louder. She shut her eyes, as though that would quiet the air. But no. She would not give in. She will see someone, or something. This will end, she tells herself.
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