The Seeker

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The night sky was pitch black save the light from the full moon.  I was running at a frightening speed, chasing something through the night.  The dead leaves crunched beneath my mud-covered sneakers.  I weaved through the heart of the wooded area.  My feet pounded furiously against the ground to the point of pain, but I still kept running, as if some evil demon was chasing me to my death.  My breath was heavy and my lungs burned for air, but I did not dare stop.  The smell of blood overwhelmed me and nauseated me.  It  made me want to turn back and flee, but I raced through the forest quicker.  I ran until the woods opened up into a small circular area.  There, in the middle of the circle, crucified to a tree with a strange mark carved into her belly, was my best friend.

Her red eyes shot open from panic and she shrieked at the top of her lungs.  She lunged up in her bed and tried to regain her erratic breath.  Both her head and heart were pounding furiously, and her forehead was drenched with sweat.  She tried to dispel the shock from her nightmare, but failed to erase her mind of her fear.  She gazed to the window to somehow calm herself.  It was quite dim out, but light was slowly breaking through the horizon.  It seemed to be five in the morning.  Perhaps she would stay awake for two more hours until the sun completely rose. 

Anastasia Aileen could never shake off her dream, no matter how much she tried.  It came to her each night she went to bed and shut her eyes.  The realism of it frightened her the most.  She swore she could hear the steady beat of her feet drumming against the ground.  She swore she could feel the pain from several branches slapping her face wildly.  She swore she could feel each bead of sweat slowly trickling down the sides of her face.  Yet, each time she was convinced it was reality, her eyes would fly open and she'd realize that it was all in her head. 

It was simply a nightmare.  At least, that's what she kept repeating in her mind as she tried to convince herself of her sanity.  Perhaps she was going crazy, especially since she was fantasizing about her dead best friend drenched in her own blood.  Anastasia couldn't help but feel disgust towards her dreams and herself.  Was she truly sane?  She couldn't even tell anymore.

She tried to elude sleep, much like she did every night.  However, sleep was inevitable and quickly came to her.  She unwillingly slept, but it was not the peaceful sort of sleeping.  It was the fitful, tossing and turning sleep that would drive anyone mad.  Yet Anastasia had to experience this every single night.

"Why?" she thought as she laid back down on her bed to drift into slumber. 

"Why?" she asked silently as she tried to silence her sobs of dread.

"Why?" she whispered to herself as she fell into, yet again, another disturbed sleep.

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Why, hello there!  This was actually an idea I started four years ago.  I actually planned part of this idea, but chances are it might not fully evolve into a full fledged story.  ;c  Hence, it's only a preview. 

Hope you enjoyed this short little snippet from a possible new book!

~Pitakarot

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