I can’t breathe.
My lungs seize, and I stumble, falling forward as a coughing fit racks my body. I manage a stumbling step and catch myself before I fall and hit the ground. I pause to try and catch my breath.
I raise my hand to my mouth on reflex, trying to muffle the sound.
Copper floods my mouth; it’s warm and metallic. I pull my hand away and stare at blood. My blood.
How…?
My fingers tremble. A sob tears out of me, each step heavier than the last. Each breath is a plea that pounds against the forest floor.
It builds into a scream of frustration—of desperation—ripping through me like a curse.
Let me go.Let me out.
This must be some sort of nightmare, where the forest is never ending and skies do not exist.
My body betrays me again, releasing another howl of pain. I come to an abrupt stop when pain slices through my lower belly, so sharp it doubles me over. No branches or thorns are causing this pain.
I gasp, clutching my stomach as the cramp twists tighter and deeper. It brings me to my knees.
Another cough rips through me, and the pain flares again. Hot liquid trickles between my thighs, slowly spreading a tack wetness between them. I blink through the tears, dragging up the hem of my tattered nightgown, just enough to see.
Red.
Blood is pooling beneath me but not from a wound.
My first bleed.
The ground soaks up my blood like it has been starved of rain for months, and I swear it seems to breathe.
Am I dying? Is this what it feels like?
The pain claws up my spine, tightening in a vice that makes my head spin. I choke on a sob, barely managing a whisper through my voice.
“Please…”
If any gods are real and can hear me, save me from this hell.
The answer to my prayer is pain: a sharp, searing lash that coils around both ankles and begins to climb.
I scream, my voice raw and animalistic, as my body is yanked forward, face first into the dirt.
Roots thick, twisted, and covered in sharp barbs dig and slice into my skin as they drag up my legs.
I claw at the earth, frantically trying to pull myself away, but it’s no use.
The thorns climb up my thighs, and the agony that follows is blinding. They sink themselves into my legs, pausing once on their ascent up my thigh.
I choke on my own breath as a cold sweat breaks across my skin. My body trembles on the edge of collapse.
I don’t pass out;something won’t let me.
Some unseen power holds me there, awake and aware. It forces me to bear this weight.
A crow calls above me. Then another. Soon, the mock sky overhead becomes a swirling, screaming storm of countless black wings.
I stop struggling.
