I woke up in a sweat. I looked down at Cynthia, lying beside me, she was still sleeping and looked extremely peaceful. I slid away from her and out of the tent, careful not to disturb her. I didn’t know what time it was. Pretty late though, as it was still pitch black outside. I sat down and listened to the trickling of the brook, trying to calm myself.
It was just a dream, I told myself over and over. But it had seemed so real.
Cynthia was lying on the ground beside me, her face was twisted in an expression of horror and fear, but her eyes were closed, and her body was… broken.
Her arms and legs were mangled and twisted out at odd angles, blood was trickling from her forehead and coloring her gorgeous black hair scarlet. I was screaming at the top of my lungs, and holding her, trying to put her back together again.
But she was too broken.
My sweat was cold on my flesh.
I returned to Cynthia and stared at her peaceful expression, memorizing it, but I was still haunted by my horrible nightmare.