• That's it, the final straw. She's screamed at you again, and you need somewhere to get away. You reach for the door, your phone in your pocket and your knife in your hand. Your free. You run out the door and up the leaf-covered hill, into the trees. Over logs and up cliffs you travel for what seems to be hours, glancing at every sense of movement, fearing it could be the enemy. The heart of the territory is your favorite spot, and only a ledge keeps you safe, and so your forced onward, fearing capture. Over vines and through narrow ways your travel, through the thorns and the brush, constantly going forward with nothing on your mind but an escape. The dried rivers seem endless as you stretch westward, through the dips and hills that follow. Finally, you reach the island. Perched in the middle of two dried rivers, could this be your happy place? You meditate, but the broken glass of beer bottles rattles your fear, and so you move northward. Upward, over the logs that seem to make a staircase, and finally, the path of green. Traveling on, everything once brown suddenly turns green, and you find inner peace. You meditate, but in your dreaming here, the rivers run with your blood, and the screams of the crows linger in your ears. You try to scream, but your voice is taken away as the killer slashes your throat. You awaken, and quickly move east. It's almost nightfall, but you have to clear your mind, and find your happy place. You travel downward, to the other side of the mountain, and find a path of thorns. Persistant, you travel on, until you come apon ruins. They scream in your mind, the lost souls of the ruins, and force you backward. You, however, do not allow it to defeat you. You find shelter on a tree with a fallen log, away from the thorns. Here, you meditate, with the sun on your back, the wind in your hair, the ruins to the east and the green to the west. The river of blood now flow slowly, gently with crystal clear water. The screams fade to the peaceful sound of water rippling, falling downstream. The soft crunch of leaves as you walk forward seems so inviting, so relaxing. The water spirit then appears to you, begging you to drink the water. As you look closer, her eyes show that of the devil, and you back away in horror. The rivers are once again blood, and the leaves are now on fire. The smoke blocks the suns rays as you smother in the darkness. You awaken once more. The moon has risen at least half way, but you realize things aren't always as they seem. You run, back through the thorns and the green of the ivy. Back over the logs and through the vines, through enemy territory and down the cliffs. Finally, your out of the trees, and you run to your mothers arms once again, telling her nothing of what you saw. Never again shall you venture to the place where the rivers run red, and never again shall you become lost in the woods.