CHAPTER SEVEN

SLEEP EVADED DIANA that night. She would be facing zombies again the next day and was the least excited about it, especially since she had lost a lot because of those gory creatures. 

Diana recalled the first time she saw the zombies… that was just the beginning of the end for her. 

Flashback 

When most people wake up in the middle of the night screaming, it's because they've had a nightmare. 

An escapable work of fiction caused by the brain, trying in vain to interpret the random firing of neurons. 

Diana’s screams that night were not only caused by a dream but the crushing feeling of dread. A sign of the horrible events that were to come. 

As reality finally settled in, the shrill sounds of her screams faded in her throat, but her heart was still beating too quickly, and her lungs wouldn't fill as she tried to breathe. 

Every part of her shook with heat, then cooled as the air from the vents hit her sweaty skin. 

The clock read four in the morning, and the level of adrenaline still racing through her veins told her she wouldn't be going back to sleep anytime soon. 

A light knock sounded at the door, and it opened without waiting for a response. Diana's nanny, Debora, poked her head into the room. 

"You okay?" She mumbled. 

"It happened again, Debora," Diana said flatly, burying her face in her arms that were wrapped around her bent legs. Diana could feel her nanny's presence as she took a seat next to her at the edge of her bed. 

When Debora reached out to pull her against her chest, a familiar cinnamon scent invaded Diana’s nostrils. The scent she had grown accustomed to love during these times of need. 

With every stroke of her nanny’s hand against her soft hair, she could feel her heartbeat and her breathing getting slower. 

As soon as she was calm enough, she lifted her head, so she could meet Debora’s eyes. The events of her dream bombarded her, and her lips started to tremble again. 

Her heartbeat and breathing picked up again, and she quickly reached out for another warm embrace. 

Diana had been having the same dream every night for the past two weeks now, and each time she would wake up screaming, crying, or unable to breathe. 

Every dream appeared to be worse than the last. At first, all Diana ever saw was oppressive darkness and terror, but this time it was different; it felt as if it was getting more realistic. 

Closing her eyes, she tried to work on her breathing, exactly how Debora had taught her to do so many times before. 

Diana could almost hear her voice inside her head, telling her to imagine a balloon expanding and shrinking but to breathe with the balloon. 

And with every instruction, she conjured up an image of a balloon in her imagination, inhaling as it shrinks and exhaling as it expands. 

Several times before, she would see the balloon bursting in my face as if she was the definition of chaos, and the balloon was the world in which she was cast upon. 

Nevertheless, when the terror of her nightmares crept into her post-awake state, she never failed to start all over again. Her inability to give up easily was one of her best qualities yet, and everyone adored that about her. 

Once her body stopped shaking, and she finally began to breathe at a normal pace, Debora released Diana from her grasp. 

The young girl’s gaze flickered in her nanny's direction, only to realise that she was clothed in her usual pale grey nightgown. 

Her curly black hair was tucked into a bun with several tendrils falling loose, which was a contrast to her pale skin. 

As Diana looked up at her face, she saw that her lips were pursed together, and her deep brown eyes were glimmering with held-back tears. Diana couldn’t bear to see Debora like that, so she quickly looked away from them. 

"Why don't I fetch you some warm milk, and hopefully you can go back to sleep after drinking it," she said, giving the little girl a brief, forced smile before it drops to a thin line once again. With a nod from Diana, Debora got up to leave. 

"Thank you," she whispered, knowing the woman had heard her when she stopped in her tracks, before walking out and closing the door behind her, and leaving Diana alone in her dark bedroom. 

Debora wasn't just Diana’s nanny, but also one of her closest friends. However, sometimes she’d act like her mother, so it was no surprise that she’d find her discomfort painful to her eyes. 

Moreover, Debora would always try to appear strong by holding back her tears and masking them with a smile. Sometimes a genuine one, but most of the time her smile was forced. 

Shaking the thought out of her head and taking a deep breath, Diana slid out of bed and walked to the window, sliding it open quietly. Cool air brushed against her skin, causing her ginger hair to plaster against her neck. 

The crowded skyline glinted with light, and the sight of the forest calmed her even more. There were no clouds of smoke or flames, no screaming, no explosions. More importantly, there was no death. Everything was fine, and her anxiety had no meaning. At least not yet. 

Now more calm and very much awake, she unfixed her eyes from the skyline and let them wander to the crowds of houses two stories below. She was suddenly awakened from her thoughts when a howl of pain rang through the forest. 

Her eyebrows knitted together as she stared at the direction in which the howl came from, only for her heart to begin racing once again as another howl tears through the air. 

It did not sound like a regular howl. It was a cry for help, filled with pain, suffering, and terror. Diana could feel the hairs on her skin stand up as her blood began to run cold. 

"Attack ... attack... there's an attack!"