Rianne's fingers methodically traced the ancient text of the old journal.
Her hazel eyes scanned back and forth and sparkled with a tinge of madness.
The curtains bellowed softly from a small wind and in the background, Ria
could hear the banging of her door. It was distant and unimportant.
In her head, new voices grew louder as the others drowned. Ria saw herself in
the quicksand, but only now her eyes were the last visible reminder of a life
form.
~Where am I?~ was no longer important. ~Who am I?~ was no longer important.
What was important was she got the text deciphered and withdraw into the
jungle
world where the voices of the lost soul beckoned.
