The night was still, with only the faint rustling of wind against the windows and the occasional creak of the old wooden floors echoing through the room. Roseanne lay curled up on the bed, her breathing steady, the tension of the day melting away into the silence. But soon, her peaceful rest began to slip away, replaced by the dark edges of a nightmare creeping into her subconscious.
In her dream, she was running—her feet pounding against an endless stretch of forest floor, branches snapping at her arms, the cold air slicing through her lungs. Voices called out to her, cruel and distant, pulling her back to a place she never wanted to return to. The world twisted around her, shadows growing thicker until they swallowed the light, leaving her stranded in darkness. She tried to scream, but no sound escaped her lips. Fear gnawed at her insides, and she trembled with that familiar feeling of helplessness.
