LOCH MORAR, SCOTLAND
The Past – the Cottage-Greystone Lands
Paige couldn’t feel her legs or her arms for that matter. She didn’t’ know where she was or where she had even been. She was in limbo. Her mind was a jumble of thoughts and emotions—terror taking precedence to them all.
For some reason, her mind took her on a mini-vacation. Back to when she was younger.
She had dozed off with her feet propped up on a table. The phone rang, startling her awake. She stood up to grab it and immediately fell to the ground because her legs were asleep. She couldn’t feel them for a few minutes, and now, she grasped that memory and held on, hoping like hell that was the case now.
Willing herself to move, she forced her eyes open. It didn’t do much good. All she saw was blackness. Trying hard not to freak out, she focused her eyes again. This time, she could make out some shapes but nothing solid. Everything was a bit blurry, like she had Vaseline in her eyes. She did that once, while trying to remove her makeup. But the problem was, she didn’t remember trying to remove her makeup. Or where she even was.
Closing her eyes, she tried to form a coherent thought. Everything was mixed-up in her mind. And she was so tired. More tired than she had ever been. She felt like she should be crying or screaming, probably both, but she couldn’t even muster enough energy to do either.
In the end, it didn’t matter. The darkness she was trying to keep bay pushed its way from the corners of her periphery and pulled her unwilling mind back under the blanket of oblivion.