Day struggled to move, struggled to breathe, to sharpen her mind to master her movements. A pale light gleamed beyond her closed eyelids, and she felt her muscles unwillingly relax against her freedom, and everything fade away. She could feel the presence of strange dark shapes surround her, then white was back, then they were there again before everything faded into darkness. 

When she gained slight consciousness again, her whole body was on fire and she struggled to move, to even think clear thoughts, anything to distract her from this. This was... this must be... but no. It couldn't. Time slid by mindlessly, and she had no idea if it stretched, or rolled, only that it was an endless abyss of silence and pain. Moments blurred into seconds, and days seemed to mix with years. The pain was the only thing that made sense, and the one thing that she had to hold onto was terrible. Time was gone, sound and sight had gone. All was blackness, and the blood that should have been screaming in her head had gone silent. The pain was the only thing keeping her from losing her sanity, until it drove that from her mind too. 

And then she was back in her unburnt bedroom at home, blinking with exhaustion as a storm raged outside. Noticing her covers had fallen off, she gripped the thick wool in her hands and pulled it over her legs, until her dream rushed back to her. 

"Wait... so Josh isn't real?" she wondered, instantly awake, alarm spinning through her as she immediately kicked off her blankets, and started trembling before padding barefoot towards her HighSpeed computer, tapping the power mechanism. When the device blinked in recognition and opened itself with mechanized hinges, she pulled up a HighSearch tab. 

Pausing, she programmed the engine to search Josh the criminal as she realized there was nothing else for it do do. Watching the images span downwards, she realized how broad the topic was. Mainly there were mugshots of somber older men, many with tattoos winding around their meaty arms, their postures hesitant with a kind of fake confidence. Taking a deep breathe, Day turned away and, putting her head on her hands, breathed as calmly as she was able with guilt churning in her gut. Pausing to wonder at the unexpected pain, Day remembered the worst part in the dream... her father. Letting out a small, fake laugh, she muttered quietly, "What a long dream. Sissy and Mom and Dad were gone. Wow, that would suck." Pausing from her fake joy, Day paused to shudder, remembering. It had all felt so... real. Real pain, real joy, real friendship... something she had never had. With a sigh, Day padded across the artificial wood floor, collapsing onto the springy mattress and feeling for the warmth of her younger sister who always buried herself under their blanket. Tensing, she felt her fingers close over cold air, and suddenly fearful, she scrabbled among her bed until all her covers were a rumpled heap dumped carelessly on the floor. In a small, tentative voice, Day called softly, "Sissy? Where are you?" And as panic hardened her senses, Day felt her voice reel and sharpen, almost as if it had its own essence. "Where are you? This is no time for games." The cruel, cold edge in her voice should've brought even the most stubborn small child from her hiding place. As she was overwhelmed by a sudden horror, Day dashed around the room, flinging open the closet door, diving relentlessly into piles of clothes, pointlessly pulling open drawers that could not even hold her. Crouching, lowering herself slowly onto her stomach, she gripped the smooth floor with her fingertips, and scooted forward. Eventually, she stared at the bed frame above her, gazing mindlessly at the thick metal springs and soft, torn clothe of the mattress. Rolling over, she felt dust coat her face and dirt roll into her hair as she worked her fingers through the holes in the mattress. 

"Where are you?" She muttered hopelessly, tossing the cotton from the holes away, just more objects to collect under her bed forgotten. Maybe she would stay here hopeless, without the promise of a day or even a sister, without a light to brighten her life.

Find her... The voice in her head was steady, calm, something to hold on to. Find her now... go out the door and search for your sister, idiot. 

Bunching her hands underneath her, Day arched her back and pushed herself out from under the bed. Feeling an unexpected pain tear through her side, she sat down hard and dragged her knees underneath her, gripping the post of a bed frame in behind her to pull herself to her feet. 

That was not a voice in her head. 

Day noticed for the first time that her clothes were covered in dirt with a stain of... was that blood? Brushing as much as she could off, she slipped on a pair of sneakers and a jacket and opened her bedroom door. 

But the dark interior of the house did not greet her.