Creative Writing - Prose
Grey mist. Grey mist all around me. Engulfing my feet. Rising. Eating me from the ground. Hands. Where are my hands? I can't see because of the mist. I touch me face. I can feel them. Slight relief.
Light. Where is the light? Where did it go? I ran away from it. Why?
What's that? A noise. Swirling around me. Just like the mist. What is that noise?
Where am I?
I see trees - no - shapes. Did it move? I don't know. The mist is still swirling. Where did it come from?
Why am I here?
I was running. What was I running from? No - I don't want to remember. It was scary.
I wanted to be safe. Am I safe? I don't feel safe. But I must be safer than I was.
Hiding. I must be hiding. From what? I don't want to know.
If I could only find the light. But no - it was too hot. It burnt me.
It was fire!
I hear a voice. Muffled. Calling my name.
Someone is touching me. Shaking me.
''No'' I scream.
''It's ok'' the voice says. ''It's ok''.
''It's just a dream.''
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