Willow was sitting next to a fallen log, trembling.


Her hands were on her head and her eyes were shut tight. She didn’t want to be here, why did she agree to come? She wanted to go home. She wanted to leave. She wanted to hide herself. She couldn’t open her eyes, she might see them. The shadows, her past. The past that she tried so desperately to forget. They’re taunting her, they know. All around, above and below. Dancing in the shade. In the dark. They remembered what she did. They’d be there if she looked, and then she’d remember, too. It would make it real. And it would hurt.

Take me home
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