Hours into the night and her mind finally gives way to the unconscious world. Dreams are a rarity for her. The forgiving world of abstractness, with its messy painting, myriad textures and incongruous colours, have always been a rejuvenating tranquiliser to her tired body.
But her recent dreams are far from pleasant. It comes to her in nightly successions, giving off a very real yet blurry sensation of realism. They seem exact, with recurring context and an interchanging environment. She never remembers them upon waking but the feelings are incredibly stark.
In recent nights, there is a breakthrough. Her dreams have become a little clearer, a little more frequent and a little more detailed.
Tonight is no different.
A field of bold, beautiful flowers with its mismatched colours and contrasting composition. In the soft sauntering warmth of the afternoon sun, her mind is free of all pessimistic thoughts, her body comfortably drifting across the quietude of this magnificent field.
She is young and she is running, feeling the cool gentle breeze filter through her hair, the smell of sweet flowers tingling her nose and the sensation of prickly grass gliding against the softness of her skin.
And the large rock comes into view, its mysteriousness masquerading an art of serenity as it sits ever so serenely atop the highest hill. Its fanciful aura beckons her forwards, enveloping her, speaking to her in a soft caressing voice.
"Come, come, come and touch me," it whispers gently.
And so she does, full of curiosity, full of joy, an impression of eagerness flowing through her arm and ending at the tip of her fingers as she reaches for it.
But it does not feel like perfection, instead, she feels a changing awareness to her surroundings.
The distortion of this beautiful world amplifies, the musky smell of a heavy forest and the oxygen-deprived feeling all suddenly intertwines to create the very real perception of standing in the depths of an ominous underground. Above her, the darkness slowly envelops, the view of the beautiful flower field disappears in a deformed swirl.
And she sees…her, another Rin, young at the innocent age of thirteen, trapped beneath a large unmovable boulder, her entire right side crushed. The sound of her screams reverberate across the emptiness of this inescapable dungeon.
Her eyes widen with fear as she observes the ground beneath crumble, watching herself fall into a massive pitched black hole.
Then she is falling, falling, her screams echoing in the distance to mimic that of her other falling self, a sense of hopelessness and impending death seeping in.
"Rin!" cries a voice from above.
Her gaze avert upwards, a familiar looking dark haired boy, no older than thirteen watching her from above. Automatically her hand moves to reach for him, her watch intensifying as he leans down and catches hers in a tight grip.
"Don't let go," she cries fearfully.
"Never!" he smiles, and his hand slips from hers.
As she descends into nothingness, her blank gaze interlocks with his, never blinking, never wavering.
He's still smiling.