Trapped

Running wild must be total freedom for a deer or an antelope. Yet every morning I can experience that freedom and not feel trapped in an office or classroom. Running helps me prepare for the day ahead. The joy that comes from an early morning jog in the forest cannot be fully expressed. The exhilaration of running through trees with the wind blowing through my hair is beyond compare. Excitement of finding a new track, the sense of challenging your body to run that much more quicker, that much harder … Yet that morning was different.

I found myself with blood gushing from a cut deep in my stomach. I scream in pain then collapse. I'm fading – my body failing. My thoughts spin round in my head. I'm dashing through the shadows of branches cascading down from a melee of coniferous trees in the forest next to my home. Branches lash out at my face like flailing whips; slowing me down and confusing me as to what route to take. I decide to head for the busy road that skirts around a dangerous bend beside the waterfall. My pulse is racing now. As the road emerged, I make a decision and dash for the verge across the highway. Before I knew it, a large metallic body has propelled me upwards. This thought caused my eyes to open wide and a sound of a buzzer bleeping its alarm filled my ears.

I found myself in bed staring at hospital charts and faded yellow walls. A clip-chart hung near to my head and on it a name. 'Amelia Pond'. Amelia. Is that my name? The word 'Coma' and a date was written in scrawled handwriting across the top of the page and a list of dates and comments hung from a sheet - surely I haven't been lying here a whole year!

Amelia felt her whole body quiver uncontrollably and she squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block out the shivering sound, the chattering of her teeth. Her breath shuddered through her and she pressed her back to the pillow, trying to become invisible, trying to disappear.

She drifted off into another dream.

"You can't outrun me… So, what'll you do, Pond?"

Amy's frantic heartbeat tried to urge her on, but she was frozen by the icy frost that had deformed his voice.

"I will find you."

She could imagine his movement in the pitch black; the lithe cat-like strides, the searching eyes that were once a kind, warm green like her Aunt's garden in the golden light of the sunset.

"Open your eyes, Amy."

Amelia's attention returned to the monster at the end of her bed.

He was so close, she could feel his cold breath mist over her skin, leaving an icy frost on her pale features. Her eyes fluttered open and she whimpered. He, her Doctor, was right in front of her, barely inches from her face, his hands either side of her, trapping her against the bars of the bed.

She returned to her dream as the drugs played havoc with her broken mind.

She screamed in horror, her relationship left broken, like her mind. Her drugged broken mind.

A jolt from the side of the bed, it forced me to drowsily come around again.

"Say good night, little Amelia…" the icy voice of the Doctor growled.

Once more did I lost consciousness and drifted off into another nightmare.

Screams filled the entire cavern… Amy's shrieks were soon lost in the dark.

His name rang a bell though… I mean... Have I met this guy before, somewhere else maybe? The Doctor. Is he trying to help me?