The sun is setting through the trees of the forest. A light flurry is picking up, moving aside for the blizzard to unleash it's rage over our small town. I run towards the sun.
I'm barefoot, but it's snowing? But I'm not shivering? Or even a little bit cold?
No, I feel like I'm on f i r e. My chest burns, my cheeks burn, each joint in my foot is a flame as I push on and on, past the blur of trees. Past a herd of deer. My speed disrupts the silence of the forest, but only for a moment.
But I don't even notice any of it. I don't even feel the twigs snapping under my bare feet. I don't notice the branches cutting through my skin. I don't feel my lungs aching for air. I don't feel my arms grow tired from pumping back and forth. But I feel fear. Fresh, raw, unfiltered fear.
I push myself. Faster and faster and faster.
Keep going.
Don't stop.
He'll catch you.
I see a rock formation through the trees. Through the snow. A perfect place to hide. I glance behind me, making sure I've put enough distance between us. He's not behind me. I turn back around and run into the crevaces between the rocks. My yellow dress gets caught on some ragged edges, but I manage to find an alcove big enough to hide in but small enough to not be seen.
I'm breathing hard and roll into a ball, my hot breathe warming my bare body. My hair falls over my face. Time to regroup. I push my.... blonde?.... hair out of the way..
Wait. Why is my hair blonde?
Shakily, I bring a hand up to touch a few locks. That's strange. Never mind that, I think to myself. No time to worry about it. I analyze my surroundings. I need something to help me figure out where I am. I need a GPS or a map or a pho-
BUZZ.
A vibration in my pocket causes me to jump. I nearly rip out the blonde lock moving my hand down to find the phone. My hands move quickly and sporadically half due to the cold, half due to absolute and raw terror coursing through my system. I finally find it and stop the buzzing. The silence fills the space once more, cut up only by my ragged breaths.
Where did you go off to?
I shiver. Not wanting to respond, I put the phone down and cover my eyes with my face. A few deep breaths. In and out.
In
and
out.
I pick up the phone and open the maps app. I'm close to home. I could make it. Before the sun fully sets. I'll be safe. With my mom. I'll be able to sleep well. Finally.
BUZZ. Another message.
I will find you...
I shake my head. No, no, no. I have to move fast. With the map pulled up, I slowly crawl through the fresh powder and poke my head out. I scan the forest, draped in a golden glow, it's quiet.
Too quiet.
But it's clear. I move to a crouch and slowly inch around the rock in the direction of my house. I push my blonde hair away, again what is up with that, and prepare to bolt.
I FLY.
I can see the clearing. It looms on my horizon, my eyes strain to keep it in focus. They tear up due to the stark cold.
Closer and closer and closer and closer.
I take one step out of the woods, into the clearing, the warm sunset light blanketing my face... and run straight into a hard wall of a human. I look up. The black masked face looks down at me, revealing dark eyes, as dark as the night still coming on. I stumble back and fall into the snow. Cold seeps through the thin fabric of my dress as the figure towers over me.
"I told you, I'd find you."
I push back, trying to get away from him. But my body is shaking so much, I can't move more than a few inches.
"You. Can't. Run." He huffs.
"Please," I croak.
He raises a knife, arching it high behind his head.
I watch in horror as the blade catches the sunlight. I cover my eyes, looking down at my dress.
It's c o v e r e d in blood. I scream. He laughs. I look at him with utter disgust. His face his still hidden, but I can feel him smiling. Relishing in my pain. A sharpness fills my stomach. When I look down, I see the leather wrapped hilt of the knife sticking out of my stomach. The blade is buried deep inside my body. Blood covers the remaining fabric of the dress, dyes the snow around me.
"I'll see you later, Molly." He says.
He raises an arm and swings it at my face. All I see is black.
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I wake up startled in bed. From the crust I can feel on my eyes, I know I was crying in my sleep. My heart is racing as I lie in bed, recovering from the hellish nightmare. I look to the side, to reveal Moira watching me from the armchair across the room. She's staring at me intensely, a notepad on her leg. I immediately drop her gaze, knowing what's coming. Another report to my parents. Another nightmare. Therapy hasn't worked.
"Hello," I mumble, pushing myself up.
She doesn't say a word. Her eyes follow me across the room.
"Can you please give me some privacy? For once?" She winces, and I know I was too short with her. She bows her head and moves to exit my room.
"We're just looking out for you, you know."
I immediately feel bad as I watch her leave. Today is the day of Molly's (second) funeral. Now that we know she's really dead, her family decided her body could use a peaceful send off into the afterlife. Which means, all of us, whether we want to or not, have to replay one of the worst days of our lives all over again. I understand her family's intentions, but I'm not sure that my mental health can withstand this again.
Not when I leave for my summer college program in a week. While I want to be excited and eager about this new chapter of my life, I also am feeling extremely apprehensive and sad and just generally not great. I feel like shit knowing Molly's been alive these past two years. Alone, abandoned, hope exhausted. To have been wherever she was and eventually accept that no one was coming for her? I can't imagine. And to have gone through whatever she did, just to be killed anyway?
It's not fair.
I feel like a broken record with that.
But it's the truth.
She was the last person who needed any of this to happen.
I press down my dress. It's the same one from her first funeral. No sense switching it up. As I look at myself in the mirror, I begin to cry. My whirlwind of emotions taking me under. I don't know how to act, how to feel, how to move forward from this and at the same time, all I want is a brand new, fresh start.
It's the most conflicting feeling I've ever experienced.
I brush my hair, watching the bristles smooth out my brown hair. I smile a little, happy to know it's brown again. I style it plainly, not wanting to stand out at all today. If all goes well, I'll just blend into the other attendees. I'll just not draw attention to myself. I'll just be okay. Finally.
I just want to be okay. I just want the world to be okay. I just want this all to be over.
A scream coming from our street, startles me out of my daydream and sucks me back into the harsh reality of "not okay." I was foolish to think it ever would be.
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A/N: Getting there! Slowly but surely. Blessed to have had some time off this weekend, but ready to get back into writing this week.
Stay tuned for more!!