Going Under

Maybe I'll wake up for once
Not tormented daily defeated by you
Just when I thought I'd reached the bottom

I'm dying again.

The cold, crisp, wind was leading me into the dark.

The curtains were corresponding with the wind as it sways along to the motion of their dance. The Moon was their witness, as I was their witness.

My feet had started to march before I could perceive of my actions, leading me to my window. By now, it was decorated with frosts and snow. But I had not known that my whole room was decorated by it. How could this be?

And the first thing that I thought was: It is still summer.

I know that it is not my own doing, simply because, I know how to use my gift.

My snow would be delightful to see, and my snowflakes are not haggard and odd, unlike the ones that surrounded me in my room.

And for a moment while I was staring outside at my window, I saw a pair of eyes. Those bloody, scarlet eyes that reminds me of a nightmare when I was a Child. It didn't blink, not for a second or so. I felt heart pounding to its beat as the room felt very... Dark?

It was still looking at me, looking at me with intensity, like somehow it was waiting for something. Something terrible to happen.

I had already drawn out from the window when the eyes blink and vanished. I was not scared, for I know I can protect myself with my advantage. I had searched for that glowing eyes, the dark did helped me a lot.

I felt something cold on my neck. Like fingernails were gripping my very own flesh. It was dreadful, the cold never bothered me, but this kind of coldness sent me to look quickly behind. I didn't say anything, I didn't saw someone.

But that's my error on that part, when I had turned around, all I saw is my furniture and things. And I felt the same petrified feeling that someone is now in front of me. I was hesitant to look ahead, and I had the right to be afraid, because when I slowly ventured my head to look ahead of my path: I saw the same Glowing eyes, only inches off my face.

And that's when I found myself falling into the black. The swirling ache inside my head was unbearable for me to handle and my all I can see is pure blackness. Yet everything is so silent, so muted.

The moment I've opened my eyes, I was not feeling any good and the one simple question on my brain is; where was I?

I was surrounded by a mass halo of snow, blizzard of sort, and gushes of angry windstorm was strong enough for me to flutter away.

I embraced myself; it was cold, unbearably cold.

Just then, I heard a distant voice; it was soft and silky, it was singing. Somehow it's meant for me, to lure me.

And my body did respond.

My foot found its own way to march further into somewhere. It had no problems on the terms of walking and I was horrified because I hadn't known I was walking on a frozen path.

The Fjord.

So that meant I am outside of my palace.

I wanted to scream with all my might when I was now heading to a hole on the fjord. I had no control of myself. I cannot stop the celerity within me. The blizzard only got stronger, with my powers in it.

I know what will become of me when my foot would go on walking, walking furthermore to the trap.

I force myself, my lungs and my voice to be heard, to escape and for someone to hear me.

But nothing came. Just sheer nothingness.

Then my feet stopped. I stopped. I saw the hole was already underneath me.

I was falling.

Falling down to that hole; to a shallow of oblivion.

Where death can take its toll on me.

Falling so fast, yet felt so slow.

You can feel your motion at its slowest depth as it fell to the very dirge of hell.

A pair of cerulean, sky, blue eyes fluttered quickly. She was breathing heavily and needed air. That wasn't much of a problem, because she is surrounded by air.

A dream.

She felt the harsh pang on her head, Just a Dream.

She clutched herself firmly as if shivering, but how can she know the feeling if shivering if she can't even feel the cold or the frozen ground she slept on. The same place to where she'd first woken up.

She can't even remember of how she got here. Not even her identity. All she knew is she's been lost and alone, and afraid.

She stared at the infinite sky, where the moon was beaming with moonbeams. It's been the same dream; she was thoughtful for a moment.

What are you trying to say?

A dream so lucid. A chromatic chain of unusual events... It seems like a memory, so tortured, and dark.

She closed her eyes and listened to the gossiping wind, "Just a Dream."