Ranking

One

Red.

It was red.  The sky, the rain, the trees, the bodies from which the red came from.

No, not red.  Blood.  Blood in the sky that gazed down on Uma, blood in the rain that fell endlessly, blood that splattered onto the trees.  It was blood that gushed forth from the dead bodies.  It was the hot, thick, red blood that was drenching her, drowning her, choking her.

So why was she not afraid?  Uma gazed around, the lone daisy in the meadow that had survived the storm.  So many dead bodies.  So many horrified expressions.  So many...

A slow, timid shadow slipped out from the trees.  Uma whipped around, face to face with a child.  The young girl's flaxen hair was neatly pulled back in two French braids, tied off with white ribbons.  In a well worn yet bright alabaster dress and shiny white heeled sandals, the adorable girl could not have been over six years of age.

She could perhaps have been an angel had it not been for the blood dripping all over her face.

Uma could hear the quiet, desperate gasps fighting for air.  Cautiously she slipped forward.  The girl was sobbing, wheezing for breath.  Uma watched her.  She opened her mouth to speak.

And then she was choking, an unseen fist crushing her throat.  Uma couldn't even cry out as the hand tightened its grip, her legs thrashing violently, nails clawing uselessly at her neck.  The child was smiling.

An astonishing set of indigo eyes, so sharp, so clear despite all the scarlet, met Uma's own.  Vaguely she thought she heard her mother, her father, the unborn baby, all screaming, screaming, screaming, and the bloody rain was filling her mouth and she couldn't breathe and--

Uma woke up.  She was met with silence.  No one was screaming.  She couldn't have, even if she tried.  Nevertheless, her heart raced, adrenaline pumping through her blood.

She willed herself to calm.  Still Uma's heartbeat sped up tenfold as she flung aside the covers that were too restricting, too warm, too suffocating, and ran to the fancy bathroom connected to her vast bedroom.  She didn't bother shutting the door; at the moment she was uncaring of whether Osric or even Nathel heard.  Falling to her knees before the toilet, Uma gripped the cold porcelain sides as she emptied the contents of her stomach.  The sound of her own retching sickened her.

For a while she stayed this way, throwing up and resting and flushing, throwing up and resting and flushing, the churning in her stomach doing nothing to help her.  It had been almost ten years since she had had this nightmare, but this was different.  Uma had conquered that fear long ago.  This nightmare, however, was an altered version, which made it a thousand times worse.  There had never been a little girl or screaming loved ones, only dead bodies and red.

Seconds, minutes, hours passed.  Uma had lost track of the time, huddled in a corner, taking deep, deep breaths.  Soon after she had been finally finished with puking, Alock stuck his head of chestnut curls in.  He stood there, lips pressed tightly together, grey eyes piercing, for a few minutes, before entering and sitting beside Uma.

"You look like shit" were the first words from his mouth.  Uma drew a shaky breath, not ready to speak yet.  Alock sighed, pulling her rigid body into his arms.  She knew he wanted to ask questions, but held his tongue.  Uma burrowed deeper into his warmth, grateful for this brother figure she respected and revered.

After a while it seemed Alock could contain his curiosity no longer.  "Want to talk about it?"  

Uma was silent for a long time.  She wouldn't meet his eyes.  "Nightmares."  She would spare him the details of the new version.

Alock sighed again.  "Just...it's all right.  They aren't real.  Go to bed, Uma."

You don't understand, Alock.  No one does.  But Uma put on a straight face.  "Go rest up too."

"Sleep well."  He planted a gentle kiss in Uma's hair and got to his feet, noiselessly making his way back to his own room.

As Uma unsteadily stumbled back to the warmth of her bed, she couldn't help but feel that tomorrow would not end well.

Dun dun dun! It's me again :D What do you think will happen tomorrow?  Once again, I'm still open to any suggestions, ideas, or just comments.  I'd also love some feedback :)

Song of the Chapter: Not About Angels by Birdy

Photo to the side--> her hair is so fabulous!  That's how I imagined Uma.