I fear it to come. This galloped heart fervent with rushing blood. It tattered my brain as it rung, spun, and escalated every known sense that could witness it. To turn right, my neck would jerk three times left. To look up, my eyes would linger unfocused and glassy. Every breath was a gasp and each gasp was suffocation. What was only to blame other than the pounding moon? It vibrates from these lingered eyes, advanced from this suffocation, and coward from this riveting drum of a heart.
Affliction; screeching, stinging, burning, and ever so prolonged drew down arches in my nails. I spoke unto the heaven for mercy to pull me from this allure. What a response I was given for cold, chilled screams without voice bellowed into my bare ears. Twisted knots crippled up the center of my neck. When I say the chill lapsed over scorching blood, one would and should suppose fever was in its wake. It clicks, it ticks, it repeats, "Where" in my mind. To void its plea would anger the unseen. It will become urgent and overpowering with a throated no voice. It screams to me hither yet pleas "Where is she?" I ponder "here" and there it continues, "Where are you. Where is she? I need her." To whom was a voice unsounded want so desperately that it would jerk an unwilled limb? Soon, the echo elapsed with it and upon a tone, a guttural surface. "Where is she?!" I beckon to it in fear, "Gone!"