~~~
Sang's POV
Location: Diana Tower
Date: October
~~~
Somewhere between the penthouse and the jet, I passed out.
Between Leninora and the pink-and-blonde-haired man's bickering and the pounding in my head, I wanted to toss myself out of a window.
I think I've found the two most immature people on the planet. I must have passed out from sheer aggravation at their petty bantering.
One minute they were arguing back and forth about how bad the other smelled, and the next darkness was swamping me on all sides.
~~~
The darkness isn't cold or warm, though I feel like I should be freezing.
I'm running, whether to something or away from something, I don't know .
My legs and arms are pumping and my breath is coming out in heaving gasps.
The ground is shrouded in mist, and it goes on forever. It seeps in from all sides, and the dark, blank landscape sharply contrasts with my glowing white dress.
The fog swirls around me, and it's thin enough that I can see beneath it, to my pale, bare feet slapping down mutely on dark, shiny stone. Awful, familiar dark stone.
It's when I look down that I realize my feet are disintegrating. As I watch, they merge with the fog, and then I have no feet. I keep running as terror spurs on a faster pace. I don't want the fog to eat me.
The farther I run though, the closer my face gets to the ground, and the more of me seems to disappear.
The fog takes my legs, right up to my thighs. I have to use my arms to drag myself, but soon those are gone too. I try to worm my way across the dark ground, but now that I'm submerged in the fog it closes in and devours me at a quicker pace.
My torso crumbles away into nothingness.
I fade, all the way up to my head, and as my ears, nose and mouth seem to drift away, all I'm left with are my eyes.
Something starts to appear out of the darkness, but before the figure is completely visible, the fog eats up my eyes too, and I'm blind.
~~~
I gasp, and jerk as I come to. The dream, as short as it was, scares me to my core. That's what's happening to me, isn't it? I'm crumbling to nothing. I can feel it everyday, the pieces of what makes me who I am floating away to dust and ash. The dark stone floor brings to mind horrible memories.
"I hate nightmares," I whimper, and almost immediately a headache starts to pound at the point in between my eyes. "And I hate headaches."
Hands slide through my tangled mass of dirty-blonde hair, rubbing at my neck, and I jerk away from them.
The hand falls, but only so arms can tighten around me. I whip my head around to meet bright blue eyes. I don't know anyone with bright blue eyes.
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