I groggily pushed away the mound of blankets, unleashing the drowning warmth into the bitter cold air. Despite the extreme effort it was taking me to fully wake up, I felt very refreshed. That means that I had been sleeping for a while, but I had no idea how long. That's one of the things I hate most about not being able too see anymore; not being able to look outside and from that, tell the time.

I pulled myself up and landed on all fours, beginning to feel around for my backpack that I had carelessly dumped somewhere last night. I clicked my tongue quietly and sensed something about two meters in front of me, to my left. It wasn't long before my hand felt it's old tattered fabric and I yanked it closer to myself. I unzipped the small front pocket and felt inside until my hand closed around the cold metal frame of a watch.

I had decided, not long prior to now, that a key element of surviving would involve me always knowing the time during the day and as soon as I woke up. So I popped out the glass at the top of my favourite watch allowing me to be able to feel where the hands of the watch were sitting. I considered it quite a good idea, unless of course the watch stopped working, which I just had to hope didn't happen for a long time.

I lay the watch flat on my palm, buckle at the top, meaning twelve was also at the top, and traced it's hands with my finger tip.

Two... No, three. Yes, around three forty-five.

Wow talk about a good long sleep, I had slept for almost fifteen hours!

Oh well, not like I had anywhere to be, plus I felt rather safe here... Like nothing could get to me... Like couldn't get to me.

I took hold of the warmest blanket that had been wrapped tightest around me last night, and draped it over my shoulders. I made my way up the spiral staircase taking a deep breath of the damp fresh air that filtered in through the cracks in the Church's ceiling. I wished I could see what the place really looked like. I could tell it was a messy place but that was as much as my mutant abilities could tell me. I wanted to know so much more.

The walls, were they still coated with thick eggshell white paint they were covered with in the beginning, or was the vibrant floral wallpaper starting to fall away and expose the pale, water filled wooden boards beneath? The statue that I sensed at the back of the church, maybe it was made from aged stone, it's grey colours bruised with darkness from the rain. Or maybe it was still shining with it's glossy finish, giving off an aura of hope to all eyes that happened to fall on it. I closed my eyes and imagined the Church in hundreds of different ways.

Since becoming blind I've found that I can see more with my eyes closed than when they're opened.

I reached out one of my arms and swung it slowly around, grazing tables, pews, books and anything I could, feeling their distant emotions. I ran my hand thoughtlessly over a small book and was suddenly overtaken by emotion.

A blur of Autumn sunlight. A crowd of creamy frills and pastel dresses. Giggles and mouths wide with pearly teeth, not far from the cotton candy kissed cheeks of a group of women sharing Sunday hugs. And in the corner, atop a chocolate coloured pew sat a head full of sun-bleached ringlets in a fresh mint dress. A girl no older than eight with her rosy tipped nose buried securely in a small book titled "Wednesday in the Meadow" in thick golden letters, pressed shallowly into the thin, forest coloured felt outside of the book.

I stumbled back, knocking something behind me and hearing it crack to the ground.

What the hell was that?

I had seen. Like a vivid dream. All the people and the colours. I could feel the warmth from the giggles inside of me. And all from simply touching that book? Maybe there was more to my abilities than I had discovered... Or maybe, and most likely, I was too dehydrated and confused to think straight.

I dropped to the ground and felt around for what had fallen. My hands grasped around a little candle. It clearly had been lit many times by many people for ones they cared about, considering its size and the amount of dried waxed now globbed down it's side. I smiled, thinking about how my mum always lit a candle when we had come to Church. Who would've thought the time would come when I needed to light one for her. I fished around in a few draws before finding an old box of matches and cracked a small flame, lighting the candle and placing it outside the doorway to the stairwell. I was about to begin descending the stairs again when I remembered the book. I clicked my tongue, quickly re-locating it, and with great hesitancy, brushed my hand over it.

Nothing.

I picked it up and outlined the words "Wednesday in the Meadow" on its cover. Interesting. Tucking it underneath the blanket that was wrapped around me, I took it back downstairs, knowing full well a book would be no use to me, but still overly curious.

***

I reached down beside me and brushed my hand over the pile of my clothes, still soggy from last nights rain. I hadn't really expected them to dry since I assumed there was no sunlight in a room below ground, but a girl could dream.

I used to love the rain but these days it was more of a hassle than not. If I got wet then I got cold, if I got cold then I got sick, if I got sick enough... Well, I don't like to think about it. Not to mention the fact that my eyes were still stinging from being hit with raindrops for a good portion of last night. Ever since I had lost my vision my eyes had become extremely sensitive. A normal stray eyelash that makes its way into my eye can now cause me the same amount of pain as spraining an ankle could. I closed my eyes and softly felt the tender skin of my eyelids, causing it to whimper in pain.

"Shit.." I muttered under my breath. I need to take better care of myself.

I reached for my backpack again, this time opening the main section and fishing out a thin scarf that had proved useless in keeping me warm. I hadn't thrown it away though, my gut had reassured me it would be useful one day, and I guess I had been right. I folded the scarf on top of itself once and secured it around my eyes, creating a tight knot at the back of my head. It felt uncomfortable for a while but after a few minutes my injured eyes had settled in comfortably against the thin fabric.

I must look like an idiot, I smiled to myself. Like a dumb superhero who forgot to cut eye holes in their new mask to see. Or maybe like a prisoner, blindfolded, being led to their impending doom. My smile fell quickly.

The sudden falling of rain almost, but not completely masked a distant groan that echoed down the stairwell and onto the landing I was on. I could suddenly feel the presence of others within the Church.

"Shit."

I bolted up, leaving behind the comfort of the blankets, calling for me to return to them, and began looking for a place large enough to fit my rather small frame. If this room wasn't touched by sunlight, the hiding place didn't have to be too extravagant, and after a few quiet clicks I sensed a large hole that sat underneath the stairs. Perfect.

I grab my soggy clothes in one hand and my backpack in the other, shoving them into the dusty hole and then squashing myself in along with them.

I heard two sets of footsteps walk somewhere over my head and then stop momentarily. I slipped my watch that I had been using before back into the front pocket and replaced the empty space in my palm with the reassuring metal of my pocket knife.

I was probably just overreacting. Maybe it was just two people who had been on a bush walk when the rain had started, looking for some shelter. Or maybe two teenagers wanting to check out the 'creepy abandoned church' that they'd heard their friends talking about. But these days, with constantly at my heels, I didn't take any risks.

It was silent for a moment, my tension almost deafening, before I heard the voices of a woman and a boy. Their conversation echoed awkwardly down the spiralled stairwell, distorting the words before they could reach my ears. Then I heard one set of footsteps descended the stairs and stop as they hit the landing I was on. It must be the guy coming to get me.

I was not overreacting. It was no coincidence that they had gone looking in the backrooms for someone. They were no bushwalkers, nor kids looking for an adventure. were two murderers looking for me.

One of was coming to get me and the other was waiting at the top of the stairs to make sure I didn't escape. And I had stupidly left the candle burning from before upstairs, might as well have just painted an 'X' on myself.

The footsteps came closer and closer, moving with ease, as if could see in such darkness that surrounded us. Which wasn't possible... Was it?

I sensed someone very close, too close. Readying my pocket knife I gave one loud click, and sensing someone directly in front of me, I lunged forward.

***

I heard a deafening crack as my body was hurtled against the hard wall. There was no way I could win against this... 'Thing'. He moved inhumanly fast, as if he was jumping from one place to another. The room reeked of concentrated sulfur, causing my head to ache and my eyes to sting, even with the protection of the scarf. I was clicking my tongue rapidly trying to pinpoint where he was. I heard a loud 'bamf' and he was directly in front of me. I thrust the knife towards him but it didn't make contact, he was already gone again. He knew my every move even before I did and I was becoming disorientated and lost. I grabbed a handful of his jacket and tackled him. Bamf. My stomach flipped as we both were hurtled into a wall on the other side of the room.

But, that's impossible! To move that distance we would've had to... Teleport!

In the moment I lost my concentration he forced me to the ground and straddled my stomach, restricting my movements. He wasn't trying to hurt me, which I didn't understand. I stopped struggling for a moment and for a split second he loosened his grip on my wrist, allowing me to pull my hand free and land my knife in his shoulder, making a clean cut. I heard a loud shriek and I took the opportunity to gain the upper hand. Flipping us I straddled his hips, pushing his non-injured arm against the floor and raising my knife above my head, ready to strike. I was about to bring down the knife when his jacket shifted up, causing my hand restraining his arm to brush up against his skin.

Pity.

I hadn't sensed anyone feel pity towards me for a very long time.

"Pleaze.." I heard him plead.

I had no idea what was going on, or who the person was lying underneath me, but I was sure of one thing; I wanted to know more.

I slid my hand further up his wrist until my finger tips rested in his palm. A wave of emotion spilled over me.

The thick sound of jazz crackled throughout a small room crowded with people. A dazed blur filled of bright lights and an ocean of colour overcame me. Men and women, boys and girls, all covered in patches of rich dazzling red and opal sequins. The sweetness of a hundred desserts tickled my nose and I felt my heart bubble with happiness. "Kurt!" My vision smudged as I spun towards a girl, seated beside a man about four times her size. "Come! Eat with us!" I felt myself reach towards her outstretched hand but I never reached it.

CRACK. My back stung as the whip heavily came down on it again. CRACK. Rows of bright lights blinded me but I could still hear laughing in the space beyond. CRACK. A roar of laughs followed as my flesh began to tear. I tried to run but I was caged. Metal bars all around me. The laughs turned to a deafening earthquake of claps as I fell heavily to the cold steel base of the cage.

Blood. BLOOD. Blood.

I pulled my hand away with a loud gasp. My mind was twisting, stumbling over what I had just seen... and felt. My heart ached with sorrow, my back stung and I could feel a river of salty tears flowing from beneath my scarf. I felt the guy lying underneath me breathing rapidly with fear. I shakily lowered my knife when I realised I still had it aimed at his chest and dropped it to the ground.

"I'm so sorry," I muttered before I felt my consciousness fall away. My body became numb and I crumpled.

But my head never hit the ground.