"Welcome to the land of the living..." I heard my mother mutter as she crept in to wake my sleeping form.
The Land of the Living... In my sleep deprived state I began to conjure a place to fit such a description. A clearing of grassland came to me first. Yes, a clearing thickly coated with a fog as dense as pea soup. This place felt protective to me, I felt a sense of deep resolution as I let my mind slip into oblivion and slowly come to rest on the face of my imagination.
The gulping grey sky restlessly churned over head, plotting with the breeze that brushed against her bare feet. She lifted them in alarm, not moments ago had they been entwined in a swirl of sheets. The girl looked about her, suddenly vulnerability clutched at her wrists and held her where she was. She could see nothing but a thick paste of darkness. She opened her mouth to take a breath, but quickly shut it as what felt like liquid charcoal crawled into her lungs. Her heart was thundering as the lack of oxygen overcame her senses. All at once she felt as if her soul had detached itself like dead skin, and drifted away. She whimpered and stretched her palms outwards into the dark abyss, clutching and clawing at the nothingness. The nothingness clawed back. It gnawed at her subconscious mind until she was forced to wake up.
And only when she woke up did she find that anything, absolutely anything was better than being awake.