Micah had a dream.
He was running. His legs pounded against the ground, but it felt like he wasn't getting anywhere. The world around him was unfamiliar, dark, twisted. The buildings were tall and crooked like they wanted to swallow him whole. Shapes moved in shadows. Figures he didn't recognise. But the fear in his chest was real. He knew that fear. They were chasing him. He didn't know why, only that they wouldn't stop until they caught him.
He ran faster, with all his might. His breath came out in rasps. He shouted for help. His voice cracked, raw from screaming.
"Please!" he cried, looking around. "Someone! Anyone!"
But no one came. Not his parents. Not his sisters. No one.
He saw faces in the distance, people he once knew. But when he called out to them, they turned away.
Those hands were getting closer and closer. The desperation… the fear… the terror… all devoured him.
