I was running through the forest, the cold night air slicing against my skin beneath the thin nightgown. Every step was a battle against the darkness and the feeling that something invisible was hunting me. Branches snapped around me, scratching my arms and legs, tearing at the fabric like they wanted to strip away the last bit of protection I had. The air tasted like fear and damp earth, and my lungs burned with every ragged breath.
Suddenly, my feet slipped in a patch of mud, and I hit the ground with a dull thud. Thick mud clung to my skin, soaking through the nightgown, pulling me down like it wanted to swallow me whole. No matter how hard I tried to get up, my arms sank into the ground, and it felt like the earth was mocking my weakness. I slid again, and the tear in the fabric grew,
