The sharp branches of the Hedge press hard into her pale skin, blood dripping from her arms and thighs. Her once white dress is ripped and muddied and now stained with her blood, but she doesn't stop. She can't stop. She gave up the last three times; she won't go through it again. She can't go through it again. She'd rather die. Not that he would give her that release.
.
She nearly stumbles on a root in the ground and her ankle partially twists. She can feel the muscles throbbing in her legs and it hurts, but she pays it no mind. Her heart is racing and any pain she endures is drowned out by the intense rush of adrenaline. Her bright green eyes are filled with tears that never seem to stop flowing, her nose dripping as well. Her long, scarlet hair is muddied and matted and several locks seem to have gotten cut by the thorns. Her gray, near translucent skin is covered and dirtied.
.
She can hear the rumble of steps not far behind her. Her breathing quickens as the hysterics of her situation begin to overwhelm her, but she doesn't stop this time. She whispers to herself over and over, "I need to get home. I need to be home. Please let me go home. Please, please let me go home."
.
As she rounds a corner of the labyrinth that is the Hedge, she feels another ripping and she gasps. Physically, she is untouched, no more thorns have ripped at her skin, but a feeling as though she has lost something hits her. She is losing pieces of herself to this part of the Hedge. She can feel a pull, a calling, and while she whimpers, she tries to muster up a stronger voice, but not too loudly, lest they find her, "No. You can't have me!" She puts her arms across her chest, hugging herself, as if trying to shield her soul.
.
She continues pushing through bush after bush, rounding corners in a desperate plea to find a door, a portal, something that will get her out of here. She pleads again to the Hedge, "Please let me go home. Please, please let me go home." That's when she sees it. Like a portal calling to her. It is an old, wooden door, nearly covered in its entirety with dying vines. The edges of the door glow and she feels a hard, yet loving pull, as if her pleas have finally been heard.
.
As she reaches the door... something is different. Something feels different. Everything goes black. She's supposed to go through the portal and find herself in the real world, but its black here. Why is it black?
.
"Cassandra."

She shoots up in her bed, awake, the sheets of her bed covered in frost. Cassandra lets out a slow breath, shaking a little. The move has been stressful. Being somewhere new like this with so few friends after everything had happened makes her feel like she used to. Those early days in the old Freehold were lonely and scary.

She gets up out of bed and walks downstairs to her kitchen to make herself a cup of tea. You are safe here. They can't get you here. She sighs a bit, shaking her head, I hate sleeping alone. Normally, she'd have him to cling to. When the nightmares would come, he'd hold her and pet her hair and whisper sweet nothings in her ear. You don't need him. You are plenty strong on your own. ...I miss you. You hurt me, but I miss you.

As Cassandra stands in her kitchen, clutching her cup of tea, she can't help but sob. Embrace the sorrow and everything you've lost; you'll be stronger in the morning.