Running, running, running... must keep running...
Bare feet pounding against the floor, Sabriel ran as fast as his lanky build could carry him - which was surprisingly quick now that he was trying - without any regard to where in this school he was going. She'd come to him again tonight, whispering malevolent words, warnings, and threats, all saccharine sweet and with a maternal tone. She'd invaded his dreams again, victimized him for the millionth time. Not even sleep could aid him in escaping reality or his past - if anything, the dreams worsened his state by tenfold.
Unable to feel anything but wild panic, Sabriel didn't feel it when he didn't turn soon enough and hit a wall, nor was he even aware of whether or not he was breathing. The only thing consuming him was intense paranoia, fear, and anxiety, forcing him to run in a way he never had before.
The lights were all off; the only light came from the moon breaking through the windows, casting shadows and illuminating everything in a foggy gray. Sabriel didn't remember what time it was, but it had been some forsaken hour of the morning when the rest of the sane world was slumbering. He had attempted to call Carta, but his phone had either been off or he wasn't answering, and calling his aunt was not possible. She'd called earlier today to wish him a happy birthday, for August fourth was the day he'd been brought into this world sixteen years ago, but he hadn't celebrated. No one even knew it was his birthday; accepting gifts made him feel guilty.
You don't deserve kindness or charity.
"Stop it," he pleaded, his hands lifting to cover his ears. A cold sweat was breaking over his forehead, there was an ache in his throat, and his eyes were on fire with tears. The voices were after him now, and not even Sabriel could run from his own mind.
Bursting in through the doors of the ballroom, Sabriel continued running through the dark, elegant room, footsteps echoing on the marble. He collapsed when he reached the stairs, his exhaustion and sleepiness catching up with him. Pain shot up his side where he'd run into the wall, but he couldn't pay attention to it.
Curling up into a ball, Sabriel attempted to protect himself, wrapping his tail around his torso and his arms around his head as his cries began to resound around the room. He began to shiver, for he was clad only in a light T-shirt and airy pajama bottoms, and the jerking motion caused discomfort against the stone steps that led to the second floor of this massive room. "Make it stop," he pleaded, "please, make it stop!" Everything seemed to have been intensified - the pain, the memories, his emotions - and he couldn't make it stop. It was like there was a monster inside of him wreaking havoc on his mind.
These were the days when he wondered if life was really worth it.
Bare feet pounding against the floor, Sabriel ran as fast as his lanky build could carry him - which was surprisingly quick now that he was trying - without any regard to where in this school he was going. She'd come to him again tonight, whispering malevolent words, warnings, and threats, all saccharine sweet and with a maternal tone. She'd invaded his dreams again, victimized him for the millionth time. Not even sleep could aid him in escaping reality or his past - if anything, the dreams worsened his state by tenfold.
Unable to feel anything but wild panic, Sabriel didn't feel it when he didn't turn soon enough and hit a wall, nor was he even aware of whether or not he was breathing. The only thing consuming him was intense paranoia, fear, and anxiety, forcing him to run in a way he never had before.
The lights were all off; the only light came from the moon breaking through the windows, casting shadows and illuminating everything in a foggy gray. Sabriel didn't remember what time it was, but it had been some forsaken hour of the morning when the rest of the sane world was slumbering. He had attempted to call Carta, but his phone had either been off or he wasn't answering, and calling his aunt was not possible. She'd called earlier today to wish him a happy birthday, for August fourth was the day he'd been brought into this world sixteen years ago, but he hadn't celebrated. No one even knew it was his birthday; accepting gifts made him feel guilty.
You don't deserve kindness or charity.
"Stop it," he pleaded, his hands lifting to cover his ears. A cold sweat was breaking over his forehead, there was an ache in his throat, and his eyes were on fire with tears. The voices were after him now, and not even Sabriel could run from his own mind.
Bursting in through the doors of the ballroom, Sabriel continued running through the dark, elegant room, footsteps echoing on the marble. He collapsed when he reached the stairs, his exhaustion and sleepiness catching up with him. Pain shot up his side where he'd run into the wall, but he couldn't pay attention to it.
Curling up into a ball, Sabriel attempted to protect himself, wrapping his tail around his torso and his arms around his head as his cries began to resound around the room. He began to shiver, for he was clad only in a light T-shirt and airy pajama bottoms, and the jerking motion caused discomfort against the stone steps that led to the second floor of this massive room. "Make it stop," he pleaded, "please, make it stop!" Everything seemed to have been intensified - the pain, the memories, his emotions - and he couldn't make it stop. It was like there was a monster inside of him wreaking havoc on his mind.
These were the days when he wondered if life was really worth it.