I close my eyes and remember

The ground is icy against her feet. It's a cold that bites and nips all the warmth from the skin. But, it doesn't dissuade her. No. Her footsteps have a purpose. She pushes on, no matter how the bitter and frigid the cold becomes. Each step, a glacial chill finds life, like a snake it coils and slithers wrapping itself around her with a strict hold.

Even then, she doesn't stop. She preserves. Her steps are with confidence. She descends down, a force within her will, drags her further into the arms of the darkness below.

The endless spiral of darker than black, looms, ready to consume her. Despite continuing into the mouth of the dark, not one moment scares her, she doesn't falter. No. No. Her footsteps have a purpose.

Until she falls.

She misplaces her foot, just enough to lose her balance, and like a flightless bird, she falls. Her arms shoot out, much like she hopes to fly again. But she's not going to fly. She's defenseless against the gravity, seizing her, and accelerating her downwards.

Thud.

One tumble into the stair.

Thud.

One head busted against the banister.

Thud.

One back punched with every tumultuous fall.

Thud.

One bleeding and bruised body into something soft.

She's curled into a ball. Squeezing her burning foot, now likely twisted. There's a feeling that she should call for help. But she can't make a word with a mangled tongue. Lifting herself up, with the last amount of strength left, she peers around herself. Everything is like the night. Dark. Silent.

And always hiding a skeleton or two.

The scream almost rips her throat open. Her landing was soft because of the wealth of bodies below her.

All dead.

All bloodied, decaying flesh, and a patchwork of knotted arms, fingers, and an assortment of human puzzle pieces. 

The shock is too much. She can't take it. With every shrill of her screams, escalating breath, and fading complexion, she nears the edge of consciousness.

They can't be dead.

She has to deny it.

They can't be dead.

She has to deny it.

They can't be dead.

She can't ever accept it.

Reality snatches her back. With a heavy gasp, her eyes whip open. She shivers so wildly her vision even begins to shake.

"Ilyas?" Her voice is light whisper, while her fingers reach out from her sides. The bed is cold without him there.

"Ilyas?" She calls out, her hands pressed into empty bedside. Her teeth begin to chatter beyond her control.

The bodies.

The blood.

"Ilyas!" She shouts. "Ilyas!" The shaking takes an extreme hold on her. Now, her bones rattle and waver becoming a throbbing spasm.

"Ilyas!" She had to hold him. To feel his tender touch. She needed to be sure. She just had to be sure—-that he was the same person she knew: Her Ilyas.

"Ilyas!" The cry is muffled by the sound of the bedroom door swinging open.

"Ilyas." The sigh of relief comes naturally, the moment she saw him lantern in hand, and whisking to the bedside.

"You're going to wear out my name at this point." He chortled, setting down the lantern on the bed table.

"Ilyas." She grabbed his hands, holding them tightly. They were just as warm as she remembered.

"What's wrong?" He asked returning her hands a light squeeze. His eyebrows furrowed together, concern settling. The light glow of the lantern's flame allowed him to see the ghastly fear on her face.

"I...I had a nightmare." She said, searching in his face for any consolation.

"About what?" He sat beside her. Her teeth pressed down into her lip, her jaw locking in place.

"I'm so scared, Ilyas." The murmur barely left her lips.

"What is it that plagues you this way?" He asks. Her only response is rest her head against him. He sighs, accepting her reticence. His fingers trail through her short curly hair. He wished there was some way, he could make her feel at ease. Unbeknownst to him, just his presence alone, comforted her.

"Ilyas?" Her tone is hushed.

"Yes?" He combs through her hair so lightly, it was almost shy.

"Sometimes," she breathes in, " I get this feeling. This thing," she breathes out, "I can't shake. I feel like it's inevitable." She breathes in. "I feel, as if," she breathes out, "I feel I'm drifting away, going away somewhere, and for a long time, I just," she breathes in, " I know I won't return."  She breathes out.

Then she stops.

She stops breathing.

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