Lena's Journey

Lena was traveling down an endless, desolate highway, gripping a heavy suitcase in her right hand. The land around her was barren, a harsh reddish ground that seemed to stretch out forever, cracked and broken by years of unrelenting sun. The sky was a dull, cloudless expanse, pressing down on the earth with a relentless heat. Her fingers were already stiff, strained from carrying the suitcase for so long, and her throat felt dry, a faint thirst she couldn’t ignore. She shifted the suitcase to her left hand, flexing her aching fingers as sweat started to bead on her forehead.

In the distance, faint shapes began to appear on the horizon, dark and craggy, growing clearer with every step. Reddish rock mountains rose like looming specters against the stark landscape, their jagged peaks cutting sharply into the sky. The ache in her back had spread down to her calves, and her throat burned with a stronger thirst, every swallow painfully tight. Sweat trickled down her temples and neck, dampening her collar and spreading along her back. She felt unbearably heavy, each step weighed down by the suitcase, and an emptiness gnawed at her as she looked around, seeing nothing but miles of barren ground and those distant mountains.

The road curved slightly, leading her closer to the base of one of the rocky mountains. Its steep, red walls towered over her, casting a narrow strip of shade that she passed through briefly, though it did little to ease her discomfort. Her legs were throbbing now, her shoulders sore as she shifted the suitcase to her right shoulder, hoping for some relief. But the weight only seemed to intensify, pressing down on her like an invisible force. The thirst was sharper, a parched sting that cracked her lips, and her whole body was slick with sweat. She felt trapped, as if the heat and silence were closing in around her, as if the world itself had abandoned her here.

A dried-up lake-bed came into view, its surface cracked and white, stretching out like a ghost of water long gone. Lena’s eyes lingered on the empty basin, and her thirst spiked painfully, a sharp ache in her throat that made her wince. She licked her lips, but they were too dry, the faint taste of dust only making her thirst worse. Her heart began to pound, and a strange thought flickered in her mind, unsettling and persistent.

Am I carrying a suitcase… or a large handbag? She glanced down, confused, trying to remember, but the image of what she carried seemed hazy, distant. Her pulse quickened as her surroundings blurred at the edges, and the suitcase felt impossibly heavy, her hand numb and her shoulder aching.

The road stretched endlessly ahead, but the familiar landmarks of the real world seemed to have disappeared. Her breathing grew shallow, and her mind was spinning, unable to grasp a single clear thought. A strange, gnawing dread filled her chest, heavy and dark, as she looked out over the vast emptiness. Why am I here? Where am I going?

The questions swirled, louder, more urgent, until they grew into a rising panic. She let out a scream, desperate and raw—

—and awoke with a jolt, gasping in her bed, her heart hammering as she clutched the sheets. The red rocks and dried lake were gone, replaced by the familiar dark of her room, yet the memory of that barren highway lingered, a faint shadow of fear in the stillness around her.

Lena sat up in bed, wiping the sweat from her forehead. She felt the lingering grip of the dream in her mind, that empty highway, the aching thirst. Shaking it off, she rose and headed into the cramped, dimly lit bathroom of her cheap hotel room. She splashed water on her face, the coolness waking her up, and got dressed with the mechanical calm of someone with a long journey ahead. She packed her things, lifting her suitcase with a sigh as its weight settled uncomfortably in her hand.

At the front desk, she paid her bill, her eyes already drifting to the world outside. The day was warm and hazy as she stepped out onto the curved road leading from the hotel. It wound through a patch of sparse trees, and she could see it stretching far ahead. She stopped for a moment, considering the long curve, and her gaze landed on a straight path, narrow and dusty, that cut across the field and rejoined the road far ahead. It looked like a shortcut, a way to shave some time from the journey. She took a deep breath and decided to head down the path, suitcase in hand.

At first, the walk was easy enough, though the sun was starting to sink lower. But as she went on, the trees grew thicker, their gnarled branches twisting above her in a tangled web. The ground was rough and littered with dry, thorny bushes that scraped at her legs. She shifted her suitcase to her left hand, feeling the weight strain her wrist, and then back to her right when her fingers started to ache. The trees cast long, stretching shadows, and she felt the heat building, sweat trickling down her back as the path seemed to grow narrower and darker with each step.

She took another gulp of air, but her mouth was dry, her thirst growing sharper with every passing minute. Her legs ached, a persistent throb in her calves that only intensified as she trudged forward. She shifted the suitcase to her shoulder, but the burden felt unbearable, dragging her down with each step. The air was thick, heavy, as if it held onto the fading warmth of the day. A sense of unease crept into her mind, faint but growing, like the twilight settling around her.

The shadows deepened as evening crept in, and the trunks of the trees seemed to darken, their shapes fading into the encroaching night. She peered ahead, straining to see where the path rejoined the road, but all she saw was more trees, their black trunks stretching endlessly before her. A strange thought flickered in her mind, chilling and disorienting—Will this path ever meet the highway? Her pulse quickened as she looked around, her breaths shallow and strained. It dawned on her with sudden clarity: she was alone, surrounded by a thickening darkness, the branches twisting above her like black, skeletal fingers. Am I lost… in a jungle?

The thought took root, filling her with dread as the last light drained from the sky. All was dark now, the faintest glow of a full moon slipping through the tangled branches above. She stumbled on, her steps clumsy, her breath catching in her throat as she tried to ignore the weight of the suitcase dragging her down. It felt heavier than ever, an unbearable burden that sapped her strength with each step.

Where am I going? The question echoed in her mind, rising into panic. She stopped, her heart pounding, the shadows pressing in on her. The darkness was all-consuming, the trees closing in as she felt a wild urge to run, to scream—

—and then she was awake, gasping, in her bed once more. She sat up, staring into the familiar dark of her hotel room, the faint sounds of the night drifting in from outside. She clutched the sheets, her body still tense, as the memory of the tangled forest faded, leaving only the echo of fear lingering in the quiet around her.

The first light of dawn filtered through Lena's window, casting a soft glow across the room. She sat up, blinking at the sunlight as she tried to orient herself. Groggy, she checked her watch. She’d only slept six hours. But… two dreams? She remembered walking an entire day in each one—a full, painful journey across barren lands, under the weight of that dreadful suitcase, for what felt like sixteen, maybe twenty hours in total. The realization struck her, chilling and impossible: she’d experienced a day of grueling pain and exhaustion in the span of a single night’s sleep. But how? How could she endure twenty hours of suffering in only six?

Still shaken, she moved mechanically, heading to the bathroom and splashing water on her face, as if trying to wash away the lingering shadows of the dreams. She dressed, packed her things, and settled her bill at the front desk. With her suitcase in hand, she stepped out onto the road, her mind still swirling with fragments of those haunting dreams.

As she walked, the surroundings shifted from scattered houses to empty fields, the few buildings fading as she passed the edge of town. The landscape grew barren, a harsh, empty plain stretching as far as her eye could see. Her gaze drifted to a small house in the distance, its outline faint against the muted colors of the morning light. She felt drawn to it, an unexplainable pull that seemed to grow with each step. Curiosity stirred in her chest as she neared, and when she finally reached it, she found herself standing before the home of a woman who looked to be a medium.

Without thinking, Lena entered. The room was dim, filled with the smell of dried herbs and candle wax, and the woman, seated at a table covered in worn cloth, looked up with a knowing smile. Wordlessly, she gestured for Lena to sit, her gaze calm and expectant. Lena hesitated, then lowered herself into the chair, unsure of what she even intended to ask.

The medium closed her eyes, murmuring something under her breath, her hands moving in practiced gestures. The room grew colder, and from the corner of her eye, Lena saw a faint image forming in a large, dusty mirror—a spectral figure, half-visible, with eyes that seemed to look straight into hers.

Lena took a deep breath, recounting the strange torment she had felt in her dreams, the grueling hours that seemed to stretch on endlessly within mere moments of sleep. She spoke of the pain, the thirst, the weight of it all. The figure in the mirror watched her with a knowing, sorrowful gaze before it spoke in a low, echoing voice.

"That is the way of it", it said, its tone calm yet heavy. "To make you feel suffering beyond time itself, to stretch a moment into eternity and let pain fill every second. It is the torment of hell, where time is twisted, where hours stretch into lifetimes, and a mere moment holds endless agony."

Lena shuddered, her mind reeling with the revelation. She forced herself to ask, though fear crept into her voice. "Who… who is doing this to me?"

The figure’s gaze grew sharper, more intense, and a flicker of something dark passed across its face. "The one you had hurt,"  it said simply, its voice a cold whisper.

Lena felt the words like a weight in her chest, and a chill ran down her spine as memories flickered through her mind, fragmented and elusive. She couldn’t place them, but she felt a faint, undeniable recognition, the stirring of guilt, of something unresolved.

She glanced back at the mirror, but the figure was gone, its words lingering in the air like a bitter echo. She looked to the medium, her mouth dry, but the woman simply nodded, as if understanding Lena’s unspoken questions. Lena rose to leave, her mind still haunted, burdened by a sense of guilt and a terrible dread. She stepped back onto the road, the daylight dimmer, her surroundings feeling colder, the weight of her memories and the curse upon her settling heavily over her as she walked, wondering who—if anyone—she could ever seek forgiveness from. "A moment can be stretched into an infinity? INFINITY! Am I walking now? Or am I going to wake up soon!" She kept wondering as she continued her journey.