Hazel's Point of View
I lay in bed, twisted in my sheets, one arm flung across my eyes as if I can block out the image haunting my thoughts. But it’s no use, it has been three days since I saw her. Jet every time I blink, I see her, the woman with the crimson eyes.
She stood at the edge of the campus, right where the light from the buildings began to fade and the shadows of the forest swallowed the ground. Black hair that moved like smoke in the breeze. Eyes so red they didn’t look real. Yet I know what I saw. The eerie stillness in her body. The way she didn’t move, didn’t flinch, just watched, as if she was waiting for something. Or someone.
I turn over again with a frustrated sigh, my pillow crumpling beneath my cheek. I stare at the wall now, but it’s no better. Her image is carved
