ISABELLA
The rain pounded against the windowpane, each droplet a tiny drumbeat in the symphony of the storm. Thunder growled overhead, its deep rumble resonating through the walls, making the very air quiver.
The room was steeped in shadows, the occasional flash of lightning casting fleeting, jagged illuminations that danced across the ceiling.
I lay curled beneath the blankets, and the fabric twisted tightly in my clenched fists. Despite the oppressive warmth of the room, a shiver traced its way down my spine. Sleep had become a treacherous endeavour since that night.
Each attempt to surrender to rest was met with a barrage of haunting memories and twisted dreams that left me gasping for air.
Tonight was no exception.
In the murky depths of my subconscious, I found myself running.
