I bolted awake when a sound of thunder, much like a whip, exploded outside my window.
Strange. I thought to myself. We never get thunderstorms anymore in the OutSrill...I tried to calm down but seconds later a flash of blinding white flipped over my eyes like a strange lens. After more than thirty minutes of trying to calm down, I decided to get up and take a walk. It was just rain after all, and I needed some way to get ahold of this new fear that ached me.
I grabbed my jacket and opened the door, stepping out to a massacre of rain.The sound was frightening, yet harmonious. I bit my lip to keep from screaming as a panic attack gripped my lungs and clawed at my heart. No. I scolded myself. It’s just a little rain, I can’t be scared of a little rain. I told myself as I walked straight into the Neer Forest.
There were legends that clung to the trunks of these shady trees, legends that taught fear and induced pain, this forest was one of the worst to be. Especially walking around at night.
In the rain.
I wrapped my jacket over me even though it was already sealed, I still didn’t feel warm. Constant shivers cascaded down my spine in quick heaps of shock, and the wind hit my face like a wasp sting. Goosebumps pecked my skin and my lips were most likely blue. There was too explanations for that; I’m cold, or I’m terrified.
At this point, both were true.
My knuckles were white, my jaw clenched, my shivers vibrant and evident. I wondered why I was stupid enough to leave the safety of our little cabin in the first place. I shut my eyes tightly and prayed. The wind picked up and it screamed in my ears.
I had still been walking, and when I opened my eyes, I had no idea where I was. No idea what way I had come from, no idea if I would ever return home in one piece, or return home at all. I didn’t even leave my family a note, just left, and now I was lost forever in floods and cawing crows and screaming winds and broken shards of memory stuck inside me that were no help at all.
I could do nothing but wait for the storm to stop.