I try to run, but my feet are heavy. Made of clay. Lifting each takes monumental effort, cracks appearing in my terracotta legs. I can either admit defeat and allow them to swarm over me, their claws rendering my flesh to shreds. Or I can keep running. My feet drag behind me, made of iron now, but I won’t give up. I grit my teeth and force myself to lift one foot... and it’s too much. My right leg shatters into pieces. The maddened laughter behind me grows closer. Kelly awoke with a gasp, his throat burning dry, his body drenched in sweat as he glanced around the room. Little had changed over the last six months. William’s slumbering form was next to him, no doubt ready to stir the second Kelly got out of bed. Then he would utter the same words he did every morning. Just the thought made Kelly’s jaw clench. He was tempted to lie in bed the entire day to avoid another tiresome replay. Unfortunately his bladder had other ideas. Exhaling, he sat up as quietly as possible and swung his leg over the edge of the mattress.
