Audiobook - F 1st person pov, Scared
Description
Vocal Characteristics
Language
EnglishVoice Age
Young Adult (18-35)Accents
North American (General) North American (US General American - GenAM)Transcript
Note: Transcripts are generated using speech recognition software and may contain errors.
Chapter one, I found myself crawling out of a murky lake that smelled like wet wood. It was the middle of the night, and I had no idea how in the world I ended up there was I far from home. How long would it take my husband this time to realize I was missing? My body shuddered, and I wasn't entirely sure if it was because I was scared or freezing. The October sky was a faded heavy gray, and the fog that hovered above the ground was thick and hazy. I couldn't see 10 feet in front of me. All I could see was my breath in front of my face, which came out in small bursts. As I continued to shiver, I wiped them out off my left hand, hoping that the two Chinese characters tattooed on my ring finger were still glowing. But sadly, they weren't. At least had they been, it would have meant I was still asleep, and all of that was only a nightmare. They always glowed in my dreams, but never in reality. So that left me with only one other explanation. I had a sleepwalking episode and got myself lost again. the sudden realization drained every ounce of energy from my body, and I dropped with my back to the ground. I felt the mud penetrate through the fabric of my tank top as well as my pence. Uh, another set of pajamas ruined. I tried peering through the thick gloom that blocked the sky. But even if I could see the stars, I wouldn't know how to use them as a guiding system. Anyway. Despite being alone, lost and risking losing a limb from frostbite or even death from pneumonia, I still couldn't bring myself to hate those recurring nightmares. I should want the sleepwalking episodes to stop. Waking up in the dark and in the middle of nowhere was always frightening, but in a twisted sort of way, those nightmares gave me hope. They didn't feel like just dreams. They felt like memories from before my car accident, and that ray of hope was enough to help me cope with the empty hole I carried around every second of the day. I never told anyone that it felt crazy, even thinking it let alone saying it aloud. But after months of living a life I couldn't remember building, I was bordering on desperation. Mia. A man's voice called out to me from a distance. It took me a second to recognize it. When he called again, he was much closer. It was the voice of Hugh Collins, the man I had learned to call husband Hugh. I tried to yell, but my voice was too weak over here. I pushed myself up from the ground so I could only get up to my knees. My legs were shaking. Hugh appeared at the top of the hill in our eyes. Locked Mia. He ran to me like Superman. The Lois Lane except Superman didn't have bony cheeks and dark bags under his eyes. I raised my muddy hand to warn him, but it was too late. He slipped on the wet grass and crashed into me. We slid back down, almost falling into the water. We haven't even come to a full stop, and his hands were already holding my face, pushing my long brown hair from my eyes. Are you okay? He asked his breath, though rushed. An urgent was still warm when it brushed my cheeks. I'm fine, I assured him, but his eyes scanned me. Anyway, I said. I'm fine. He pulled off his police jacket and wrapped it tight around me. I touched his long, pale fingers and looked into his green eyes. I thought about repeating myself. Put it wouldn't matter. He hadn't stopped worrying about me since my memory loss. The bags under his eyes proved he hadn't gone a good night's rest in months, and I pulled away from him with a pang of guilt stabbing at my chest. He pulled back and ran his fingers through his short black hair. When his eyes met mine again, his thick eye brows were furrowed. What did you dream about? He asked. More concerned than curious, I looked at him. Puzzled. He sat down and leaned on to his bended knees. What do you mean? I asked. He looked over his shoulder and pointed to something in the distance. I squinted, trying to peer through the thick layer of fog. Was it a rock I couldn't tell? I tried to focus. Is my blurry vision picked up the form of a stone? Oh, no. I looked at Hugh, mortified. He didn't seem surprised, just confused. What are we doing in a cemetery? Mia