Chapter 29: Buried alive

Mary stared out of her grimy window across the desolate fields at the gathering gloom. With her fingernail she flicked a scale of peeling white paint from the window frame. Out in the fields, the disorderly jumble of weeds that had once been a thriving crop looked more like barbed wire maliciously strewn across a battlefield. At the far end of the dusty rows she could imagine an enemy horde crouched behind the black trees. She felt tired, but she was afraid to go to bed; afraid to sleep. She walked to her door and opened it. She looked down the hall. Dark shadows and shapes. She tiptoed down the hall, past Uncle Jonathan's room. She could not hear a sound. Mary crept down the hall, holding her breath; boards creaking in the quiet. Images flashed through her mind. The hallway opened out into the dingy living room. Mary wanted to flee; get out of there; run. She crossed the room and touched the cold metal doorknob. But where could she go?
Mary turned and went softly back to her room. She tried to stay awake; fought it, lost. Not for the first time, she cried herself to sleep.
Mary found no rest in sleep. She tossed and turned. She was walking down a long, dimly lit corridor. Dark doorways in the corridor seemed somehow malicious. The corridor opened out into a bright, cheery courtyard with marble benches and a fountain surrounded by marble statues. Mary lay down on one of the benches. Instantly, she felt warm and safe. White light flooded over her, filling her with a sense of protection and peace. It was a peace she had never before felt in her turmoil-filled existence. She savored the moment, hoping to keep it within her. But she could not hold it. Slowly it faded, leaving a dream within a dream.
In its place was an indefinable sense of unease that gradually grew toward something like fear and disgust. A darkness descended over Mary like enormous black, suffocating wings. Mary fought for breath, tried to scream but couldn't. The blackness oppressed her, buried her alive. She struggled against the unseen evil, but was powerless in its grasp. Her screams went unvoiced, unheard.