Her raspy voice sounded like nails on a chalkboard, piercing the lonely atmosphere with every mumble that escaped from her mouth. Slow-like, crackled strands tried to grow among her head, but the lack of showers instantly killed them. The dirt stains on her cheeks matched her muddy brown eyes and fragments of filth remained in the wrinkles that formed along the sides of her mouth; against her pale skin, mud was the only aspect that made the woman look alive. Ebony rags hung off her gaunt body, leaving dried-out skin exposed to the winter's frigid temperature. The beating of her heart increased in intensity, just like the screams did hours prior.


Although weak and limp, she kept proceeding, trudging through the wonderland of snow in bare-feet. She released a breath of air hoping to release her fears with it. The woman was alone, walking away from her past. With each step, hope increased, but with every glance back, memories weakened her strength. Audrey was the only survivor of her family and had no other choice but to walk towards a new beginning.





The air was numbing, as she could see her own breath; the wind whipped strongly acting as a force holding her back from reality. Her temples throbbed, and her legs began to become unstable; her vision blurred, and everything went black.


She awoke to a room with no windows; the light could barely peek through the creak in the decrepit door. She couldn’t remember how she got there, but she knew that she was far away from what was left of her home.






*****

The air was dry; it seemed as though someone had sucked all of the moisture out of it. Although it was mandatory for me to breathe in order to stay alive, I knew I couldn’t… or else, I would be knocked out instantly. My tongue grew dry and began to shrivel; my lungs tightened waiting for a gulp of air to be released into them. Seconds ticked on as an endless array of distractions ran through my mind. I couldn’t fight it any longer. My lungs cramped from the lack of oxygen they were receiving. My battle came to an end as I gasped for air, expanding my chest as carbon dioxide was released though my nose. I went to take another, but my eyes rolled back into my head, and I was motionless. I was going to die.


Chills ran down my spine as I dosed off into the nightmare I once lived; I screamed as I gasped for air knowing that someone had heard me. The buzzer in my room went off and the guard and nurse came into the ward. A sharp object was injected into my spine, but I was helpless; my muscles stiffened. I tried to fight the impossible, but brown rusted straps held my arms in place. I rocked back and forth in an engraved wooden chair trying to remember what happened to the rest of my family.


Sirens soon filled the ward, gradually increasing in pitch; I waited for the floor officer to escort me out, but no one came. I glanced at the small window that allowed me to see a fragment of the hallway. That’s when I saw him. The buzzing of my door went off and the silhouetted figure stepped into the room; he had the same scar on his right cheek from where the glass pierced through his skin the first time. My muscles felt like dead weight against my body, all I could do was remain motionless.


Last week, the nurse explained to me how my body successfully adapted to the injections and that the side effects would no longer affect me. I couldn’t help but think I was hallucinating, so I envisioned what I was doing before this moment. As I opened my eyes, a gun was directed at the pressure point at the side of my head. A tear rolled down my face as he pulled the trigger.