Sometimes i can feel the creatures of the night inside the carriage. The carriage is no longer the safe-shelter I thought it was. When they are there I can't sing or think of the sun-days. There is only survival.
I can't breathe, the air is thick and thin in the same time. Thick like jellyfish and thin as on the top of a mountain. The air is fire and ice, and I can't draw it in. I can't inhale. I will suffocate. As this thought swirls through my mind, I become dizzy. I try to crawl to a corner, but the room is cirkular, and the darkness slides closer. My heart slows down, and I faint.
