Chapter Six
I was beginning to really, really, really hate this fog.
These dreams were awful. Nothing ever happened. I couldn’t even say there was anything particularly wrong with them, because there just wasn’t anything to complain about really. Well, there was one thing.
Somehow, I stumbled again. Despite trying to stand still, and knowing that I’d fall over if I didn’t, this place didn’t seem to work like that. After a few moments my balance would just shift for a moment, making me lean one way or another, before snapping back so that I tumbled over, sometimes managing to stop and catch myself before I hit the ground and sometimes slamming into it with such force I was surprised my skin didn’t physically shatter. I didn’t understand this, I felt so dry, though surely the fog should be stopping it. Even my throat felt dry.
When I stopped for a moment to test that, almost to check that I wasn’t merely making it up, I started to fall again, biting my lip when I hit the ground.
Yes, these dreams hurt. That was just another reason to hate them.
They hadn’t hurt when they’d started, it’d just built up, and now every time I moved I was afraid of it. Every new dream seemed to hurt more, even though it was the same thing over and over.
When I eventually thought everything had stopped spinning around me – or at least, when it felt that way – I pushed myself up, yet again. I’d found out pretty early on that just staying on the ground hurt even more, and the longer I stayed down the more difficult it was to stand afterwards. I didn’t really know how to explain it, but it seemed as though the longer I spent on the floor, and harder gravity pulled me down. At one point, I’d been down for so long that I simply couldn’t get up, and had to wait until something real woke me up. And I wasn’t getting into that position again. When I’d woken up, not only had I been tired because these dreams never seemed to constitute as sleep, but I’d ached all over, almost as though it had actually happened.
So I either stood and fell to the ground time after time, or I stayed down and got hurt, or…
Without taking more than a moment to really consider it, I took off running.
Just as I suspected the ground formed beneath my feet. I almost expected something else to go wrong, but when nothing did, I decided to risk it and pushed myself faster. I started to hear my breathing through the thickness of the fog, the sharp sounds making my ears pulse louder with each step. It felt good.
I felt a smile start to fall on lips when I realised that maybe this was the solution. It didn’t have a purpose, there was no reason for it – but it made me run. It reminded me of running, of trying to get away. And it reminded me of winning.
No sooner had I thought that, than the fog disappeared around me and my feet rooted to the ground. I tried to move, throwing all of my weight and energy into moving forward, backwards, wherever seemed possible, but none of it worked.
Without warning, the feeling I’d had before returned. Only this time, it was worse. I heard the gasp from my lips as my knees crumbled beneath me, leaving me to hit the ground so sharply I really thought something had broken inside me.
My every thought was on the pain. My every sense just said it hurt. My body ached, my head throbbed, my muscles shook, trying to hide from it… It felt eternal.
“I’m almost sorry for her…”
I managed to lift my head a little, opening my eyes for a moment to look up and the nothingness above me. My lip shuddered slightly.
“Rena?”
As soon as I spoke, I felt my throat constrict and my eyes close, leaving me for once in a genuine, restful sleep.
