20 years ago, young Dahlia was running as fast as she could, her feet pounding the pavement. She was out of breath, her legs burning with the effort. But she couldn't stop - she had to keep running, had to keep moving, or else he would catch her.
Suddenly, she heard the screech of tires and a blinding light filled her vision. She felt a sharp pain as a car struck her, sending her tumbling to the ground. The world was spinning, her head pounding, and she could feel blood seeping from her wounds. She tried to stand, but her legs refused to cooperate.
The man who had been driving the car rushed over to where she lay on the ground. He was in his late thirties, with dark hair and a worried expression.
"Are you okay?" He asked, his voice filled with concern. But she didn't answer him, instead pulling herself to her feet. She was limping, blood seeping from a gash on her leg, but she kept moving.
