The Seer — Cynthia D. Witherspoon

I ran as if my life depended on it. Somehow, even in this twisted nightmare of mine, I knew that it did. Branches snapped back against my skin as I pushed through them. Leaves were crushed beneath my boots. The silence was the most unnerving part. I could feel. I could see. But there was no sound whatsoever. Gone were the usual whispers which haunted my dreams. Gone were the voices of those long dead who clamored for my attention. I was more alone than ever. Abandoned and discarded by the gods and dead alike