Into The Valley of Lost

The summer was soft and warm, as beautiful and as ethereal as the valley of sunflowers that spread into eternity. It was hard to grasp a time when the soothing comfort so easily encased Alys into the most feverish of slumber.

Her dreams were of this wilderness too, she had no thoughts nor any understanding as she stared at the clear blue skies, slowly sinking into a feeling of calm nothingness.

And soon, there was nothing.

She was nothing.

But a shadow of a memory, not hers.

Drowning and drowning deeper into a sea of nowhere, until a soft weariness made her look down from the skies to her hands and the smear of stark crimson.

She opened her eyes from the dream, everything about the valley was still the same. But her hands were cold and trembling, and her heartbeats echoed loudly inside her soul.

She couldn't stop her tears.

And they refused to ever cease.