There's a puddle of red in the middle of the floor. I'm staring at it and I'm crying. The silence almost seems deafening. The floor, other than the red patch, is so grey and dusty. So dull. I don't want to be here. The cold. it's really starting to get to me. I claw through my satchel, pull out my woollen blanket. It's as red as the patch on the floor, but looks so much more old and worn. But at least it seems real.

I'm looking up. I'm looking for the source of the cold, and my eyes fall on one of the many stained glass windows. There seems to be a very musty, unpleasant smell, but maybe I'm imagining it. The glass is broken. A big hole through the holy one. IMore the holey one now,/I I'm thinking. There's a large rock by the window too. I'm thinking vandalism is common here, but I don't know. I don't know.

For the first time in my life, I'm seeing reality. I've always experienced things, but never seen them as they are. Never. Now. I'm seeing everything, and it's scary. I'm looking back at the window. Little light is shining through. The darkness is terrifying, but the moonlight makes it bearable. I'm tired. I'm thinking of sleep. I'm reaching into my satchel once again. I still haven't opened the two heavy bags I've been lugging around with me. I'm reaching for my teddy and my other blanket. I'm lying on the worn one now, the other spread over me. I'm clutching to my teddy for dear life. I'm staring at him too, and I'm thinking of all the memories he brings. So many memories. So many. I'm crying silently. I'm feeling the tears slide down my cheeks. I'm feeling the pain burn a hole inside. I'm scared. I don't know what to do. I'm exhausted, all my feelings are caving in.

I'm asleep.

* * * * *

The light is shining in through the cracked window. Sunlight is streaming over me, boring into my eyes. I'm no longer in the land of slumber. I'm sitting up, rubbing my eyes and then immediately regretting it. I'm looking at my hands. They're filthy; all dust encrusted and gritty. I'm blinking rapidly. My throat is croaky and I'm parched. I'm glad I studied this place before coming. I stumble out of the back gate groggily. There's no houses at the back, just countryside stretching out for miles. Luckily, it's impossible to be spotted. There aren't really any houses at the front either, but I could be seen by some of the houses a fair way away. I'm reaching for the taps, turning them, washing my hands clean by the outdoor tap. I'm sure they're washed now. I splash the cold water over my face, and find myself waking up very quickly. I'm hoping the water isn't contaminated, but gulping it down nonetheless, so whether or not it is contaminated isn't really an issue anymore.

I'm collapsing. I'm weak. I'm in dire need of food. Very little food supply is with me, although I do have some. No matter, I may as well diet. People think I'm thin, but I'm not. I'm so fat. Are they blind, or just being polite? Can they not see the flab of my belly? Can they not see that I'm fat? I've made up my mind now. I'm going to diet. Replace food with water. There's limitless water here, so it's safer that way.

I'm dragging myself to my feet, clutching at the nearest thing in sight. I think it's some kind of wooden pole. Now I'm staring at the only building in miles, the one where I've taken refuge. It's a church. An old, abandoned one at that. It is rare that someone comes up here, and I'm hoping that the rock was thrown through the window a long time ago, and that they aren't a threat to me.

Almost robotically, I'm staggering back into the church. I'm lunging drunkenly at things, but I don't know why. The air and the water here seem to be having strange effects on me, but I don't mind. I'm inside. I'm grabbing at the pews, pulling myself onto one to avoid collapsing again. So weak. So weak. I'm in need of strength. I'm taking a chocolate bar from my satchel, and my stomach is growling at the sight. I'm tearing into it greedily, feeling it, feeling a strange warmth and comfort fill a hole inside me. I can focus a little better now and I'm almost seeing the church for the first time. I'm finding my eyes once again drawn to that pool of red. I peer at it closely now, and hold my breath in fear. Now my vision has cleared, I can see what the pool of red is.

Blood.