I’ve lost track how long I’ve been running. Time seems to pass differently when I move at such a speed. My eyesight is still deteriorating, but I can see enough not to slam into trees or fall into a ditch.
It’s hard to believe that I still haven’t reached civilisation. Nerves start to creep over me as I slow down, followed by a sickening feeling of defeat, of foreboding—because I’m out of options.
It’s time to turn back.
Coming to a complete stop, I suddenly feel shaky, out of breath. As I start to walk back in the direction of the farmhouse, the trees start to spin, morphing together. Rubbing my eyes, I try to clear my vision, but all it does is create a deeper, thicker fog.
A jolt of panic hits me when I realise that I have no idea which direction I came from.
Oh s**t! I’m lost!
St
