I Am Not Alone.

I crawl across these empty, barron mountains where only the song of the wildnerness can be heard. An echo as I stop to catch my breath. My hands are frozen to the ground that I cling upon. Footsteps leave a pattern in the snow, but they are not mine, oh dear.
I am at the highest points now; above the line where the trees refuse to grow, who else could survive here? A monster of some sort, I can only assume. Panic runs through what little blood is left in my veins, I am not alone, and it's terrifying. Everything appears to be a dream. A blurred vision of the cloud covered sky, an eerie domain that I would enjoy to see in a picture frame. But no, I would not, and do not, enjoy being within the imagination of others. I cannot move these muscles any longer, I cannot bare to carry on using these brittle bones. I will rest, but only for a few brief moments, I must, I will, continue. . .
Black, a very uncomfortable black. A black that is unlike any black you've ever witnessed. A black that is worse than being upheld within the depths of a continuous coma. A black worse than a nightmare where you are unable to move at a safe pace. A black unlike anything you are able to imagine. A black where your surroundings are uncertain; you have been robbed of all the senses the Lord blessed you with from birth. A black where you are unable to translate your own thoughts, you forgot how to comprehend even yourself. And when it seems like nothing could be more painful, it is interrupted by a piercing scream.
I cover my ears, but the sound is not even muffled. I cover my mouth, and it discontinues. Will I make it out alive? I fade back into the darkness again, but this time, even the screams don't steal me away. My body lies along the snow and ice, but I no longer am there.

-I know, spelling errors, I'm too tired to care. I've never been a good speller.

Listening to:
Wicked Dream-Steve Roach.