The first thing Brooke became aware of was that she was conscious, awake, followed by an irritable tingling at the base of her scalp. She opened her eyes. Nothing happened; her eyelids remained stubbornly shut. She moved her arms. Her limbs refused to comply.
Something was wrong
, Brooke’s mind registered groggily.
Very wrong.
Was she still dreaming? How long had this dream lasted? Here in this darkness, there was no way to tell. Seconds dragged onto minutes, minutes felt like hours. Time here had lost all meaning. The only measure she had to go by was the tingling spreading down her spine. Her body felt hot, boiling actually. Unbearably so.
Make it stop. In response to her plea, a tiny bead of light pierced the veil, a shiver trickling down her scolding spine as she came to the all too obvious realisation.
Was she… dead?
“
You… have been chosen.
” A throaty voice responded.
The next moment was like a sensory overload. All at once, she sat bolt upright, her eyelids thrown wide open. She gasped for breath as cold sweat trickled down her brow. One hoarse breath lead to another – but no matter how many she took, her lungs demanded more.
Soon, she settled, the watercolours surrounding her focusing into the contours of her all too familiar bedroom. Her sheets had already been tossed aside, leaving her staring aimlessly at her palms. Beyond the panic, she was able smile weakly as unfamiliar knowledge flooded into her mind.
Noth
ing
inte
rest
ing
happ
ens.
17-Mar-2018 06:07:08
- Last edited on
17-Mar-2018 06:17:22
by
Westenev