(I've got absolutely no clue where this goes, so I'll just try hither and thither? Tell me what you think.)
It was dark, all around me. I was running - but my limbs felt like lead. I couldn't move enough to escape the voices whispering to me. I saw flickering lights of my own soul. Some were blue, some were red, green, and the most uncommon were a blinding white color I could hardly stand to look at.
The red were snapping at me angrily, while the green were issuing chilling groans and screeches like banshees. The blue were weeping and wailing - and the white were singing the melody of a lullaby.
I was trapped, somewhere between the mix of all the spirits. My anger was strong and plentiful, but yet still my torment and sorrow were both close seconds. The smallest, weakest part of my soul was the part that lingered in happiness and safety. The part where hope that I would survive still lingered in me. That smidgen of elegant desperation among all the other parts of my jumbled soul.
- - -
I awoke with a start, almost crying out, but realizing that to cry out would mean changing my location. I stayed still, hoping nothing had spotted my jerkish movement when I had shaken myself out of my restless sleep.
Only a frightened deer bounded away as we made eye contact, and I half-breathed a sigh of relief. I was safe, for now. But all the same, I would have to be more cautious.
I glanced into the sky and bit my lip. The sunrise was red: as it had been these past few months, lately. The Red Dawn had appeared, as predicted, on the night when I had left behind my village and fled.
Ever since, the Red Dawn had been persistant: and growing ever more red. I knew what it meant. I was no fool. I knew it meant that the clock was ticking - and the sand within the hourglass was falling. The scales were tipping to one side. The thread growing shorter.
My life was coming to a close.
For years, I had heard only legends on how the great fighters of many ages had had their lifetime linked by the mysterious Red Dawn. People said that the Red Dawn was actually the given light of a star that was magnetically being drawn to the hero or heroine on the surface of our world that was, somehow, the special warrior.
The magnetically-drawn star acted like a leech: and drained the life of the hero or heroine until there was nothing left - and when the person died, the star exploded in a fantastic supernova.
Only four times before had the people of our world seen the sky light up with a brilliant white light that lasted perhaps half a minute, and then it was gone - and the blue sky replaced it.
Ever since I had realized that this Red Dawn was fixed on me - I had tried to escape my fate. I was slowing the process of my death by escaping the man who wished to quicken it with the endless torture that had caused me so much fear, anger and sorrow: but that slowed process of my explosion with the Red Dawn was even more sorrowful.
Lost in my thoughts, I hardly noticed the voices coming nearer: until they were almost upon me. I scrambled back into the thicket where I had been hiding, and listened closely.
A pair of black boots stopped walking right in front of my hiding place. I caught my breath, hardly daring to look upon feet; for my fear had won against my anger.
I recognized the voice plainly, but kept myself steady. I had to restrain myself. I knew I would be outnumbered, should I attack.
"How do you know?" A second voice asked.
"I've been tracking her night and day - do you think I would lose all trace of her now?" The familiar voice snapped in the same venomous tone he so often used with me.
I heard a mumbled apology, and the boots neared my hiding place. I thanked myself silently that I had chosen the thickest patch of brambles I could disguise and hide myself in.
"She can't hide forever," The familiar voice said in a low growl that I had also heard before. "If we can't find her - we starve her out of hiding. The witch can't be too far, and she can't survive on leaflitter and termites." He sneered.
I felt my heart sank: and the blue side of my soul came out strong. My sorrowful, weeping side. Couldn't I just turn myself in and end my pain? End all of my grief? But I couldn't.
I must stay strong.
The lives of my family rested on my shoulders. Perhaps, if I was lucky enough, I might be the first person to ever outwit and outrun the foreboding Red Dawn.