Prick Your Finger On The Spindle

Nightmares filled her mind, taking over everything. Her body started to convulse as she lay on the cool, rocky earth. She was hardly breathing at all, but she was still breathing. In her mind she tried to cling to some semblance of light, but the darkness was all consuming. It ate up everything, but it left the pain. Even in her state she could feel the throbbing of her head and shoulder, the wound was moderate atop her left shoulder. But with nothing to stop it it ran it's course, coating her left leg with its crimson colour. She might as well have been dead. She wished she was. Everything hurt, every shadow moved to touch her, caress her with their smoky tendrils. They called to her, dragging her deeper, deeper. Maggie's voice wasn't heard, falling upon deaf ears. She didn't even hear her leave, but she felt so alone. So much for trusting strangers. But had she done it? It all happened so fast, too quickly for her injured mind to wrap around. She twitched again, until she fell completely still.

-exit Finch via passing out-