Snow; it covers the forest floor like a blanket, ivory-white and flawless. The billions of icy particles sparkle like sharp crystals, reflecting in the luminescent moonlight.

Tall silver birch trees stand apart from each, extending up towards the prussion blue sky, a prison of verticle lines which seem to go on forever.

Barefooted, Sofie runs through the frosty night-forest, delirious. She can't remember how she got here or even where here is.

Her old clothes are gone and she is wearing nothing but a thin linen dress as a replacement. Her pale, wet feet are completely numb - the tips of her toes turning purple from the frigid cold.

Her blonde hair falls wildly around her face, longer than it should be, matted and muted by filth. It obscures her vision and she trips, landing on her hands and knees in the snow.

Sofie pants heavily, her chest wheezing. The burning agony in her lungs is unbearable but the wintry air does nothing to ease it. Snot dribbles from her frostbitten nose and her teeth chatter so hard she's afraid they might shatter.

She's so cold, so tired, so... scared.

What is she scared of? It's difficult for her to remember now.

Faces flash before her eyes, inside her mind; individuals she does not recognise. A man, a boy, and a girl. Longing and desperation squeeze her heart like a fist with a vice-like grip and she coughs, choking on the sensation.

Her ears ring with voices from the forest, hollow whispers from... the trees? He's coming for you.

Sobbing, Sofie crawls on her hands and knees to the nearest birch and uses the strong, unmovable trunk to pull herself up. The bark is harsh against her stinging cheek. Her arms are so weak but she hugs the tree with all of her strength as if it can somehow save her from this nightmare.

A nightmare... A dream. This is what this is, but it feels so vivid. With a whimper, she pushes away from the tree trunk and lurches on.

Instinctively, she knows that she has to keep going. Has to get home. Home...

The forest grows darker the further in she trudges and the sea of snow gradually begins to rise beneath her feet. Passing her ankles, engulfing her calves. Huffing from exertion, it takes all of her energy to continue shuffling forward when it reaches her knees. She leaves a trail of two lines as she travels, causing panic to course through her like electricity.

My tracks will be seen. He will follow me.

The ground shifts beneath her as she fights to move faster, then it gives way completely. Snow rushes up around her as she falls through it, swallowing her whole.

With flailing limbs, Sofie claws clumps of snow with her hands, battling to climb back up to the surface. She kicks her legs, trying to find purchase but the lower half of her body has become entirely numb.

Gasping for air, she watches helplessly as the last bit of midnight sky is obscured by white and she is buried alive.

Using her last breath, Sofie screams but the snow absorbs and extinguishes it as if it never existed. Soon it will do the same to her.

Just as she begins to feel herself fade, a hand appears from above, reaching for her through the snow. It wraps itself around her wrist and pulls her body up and out from the dark, icy grave.

She gasps when her face breaks the surface, her lungs reacquainting themselves with air. When she blinks away snow from her eyes she sees a boy with peculiar beauty leaning over her, his hair and skin as white as the moon behind him.

She does not know who he is but a name enters her mind anyway. Grim...

Ripped from the dream's grasp, Sofie jerks awake with a gasp. With sweat dotting her forehead she lays there for a moment and catches her breath.

Blue-grey light peeks into the room from outside through the window. It's dawn.

Emelia is still asleep. Untangling her limps from the covers, Sofie quietly pads into the en suite to fill up a glass of water, hoping that it will wash away the nightmare but the cool liquid reminds her of it instead.

She combs trembling fingers through her hair and takes a deep breath.

"Just a dream," she mutters to herself. "Just a stupid dream."

Or was it? Sofie nibbles on her lower lip, aware that dreams are rarely meaningless. Deciding not to dwell on it, she goes back into the room and retrieves the old book she found in the library out from beneath the bed.

Sitting cross-legged on the carpet below the window, she opens the book and spends the rest of the early morning hours reading from where she left off.