Chapter 13 - Analia

                                    

                                          
Analia lay in her twin bed, the familiar quilt wrapped tightly around her, but the warmth it provided felt hollow compared to the ache in her heart. The cabin was silent, save for the faint sound of Raleigh's breathing from the other twin bed across the room. The dim glow of the nightlight illuminated the space, casting soft shadows on the walls, but it couldn't chase away the darkness that crept into her thoughts.
She squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself to calm down, but the events of the day clung to her like a shadow. The image of the girl she'd lost—the pregnant teenager with wide, terrified eyes—kept flashing through her mind. It had been too familiar, too close to the memories she'd buried deep.
She felt the tears sting her eyes again, and she forced herself to take deep, slow breaths, trying to steady the tremor in her chest. She couldn't let herself break down here, not now. Raleigh was across the room from her, and she didn't want to burden him with her past. He was healing, trying to piece his life back together; he didn't need her pain piled onto his.
Eventually, exhaustion won out. Her body, weary from the day's shift and the emotional toll of it all, pulled her into a restless sleep.
The dream came quickly, dragging her into a memory she'd long tried to forget.
Dream Start
Analia was sixteen, maybe seventeen, standing on the edge of a road as snow fell heavily around her, blanketing the world in white. The biting cold seeped into her bones, and the wind whipped against her cheeks, but she barely felt it. Clutching her swollen belly with one hand, she stumbled forward, desperate to escape the suffocating weight of her reality. Her other hand gripped a small duffel bag, the only remnant of a life she once knew, filled with everything she had left.
The street stretched before her, lonely and desolate. She hesitated, glancing up and down the road, her heart racing. The panic clawed at her throat, an all-consuming fear that something terrible was about to happen. She was trying to cross the street, to find safety, but the world around her felt like a storm, chaos swirling in her mind as the ache in her abdomen intensified.
"No, no, no," she whispered to herself, feeling the tightening pain that coiled around her, threatening to pull her under. "Not now, please, not now." She took a step forward, but her legs felt unsteady, like they were made of ice, and she stumbled, the ground beneath her slick and treacherous.
As she fought to keep moving, the sound of tires screeching filled the air, followed by the blinding glare of headlights. She looked up, panic surging through her as she reached out, her hand trembling, desperate for help. "Stop!" she tried to yell, but the wind stole her words away.
The impact came suddenly—an agonizing force that knocked the breath from her lungs and sent her sprawling into the snow. Pain shot through her body, radiating from her abdomen, sharp and unforgiving. The coldness of the snow felt like knives against her skin, but nothing compared to the torment that gripped her as she realized what was happening. She could see the dark shape of the car speeding away, its tires crunching against the snow, leaving her behind.
Everything began to fade, the world spinning into a blur of white and darkness. She reached for her belly, trying to hold on, but her strength was slipping away. "Please, no," she gasped, her voice a mere whisper against the howling wind.
When she came to, she was in a hospital bed, bright fluorescent lights blinding her as she blinked awake. The antiseptic smell filled her nostrils, and the beeping of machines surrounded her, a sterile symphony that felt foreign and cold. Panic rose in her throat as she turned her head, searching for answers, but it was a nurse's gentle face that leaned over her, concern etched into her features.