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DAHLIA M y breath comes in short gasps. The cold earth shocks my feet. The air asphyxiates my burning lungs. But I don’t stop. I can’t. The wet grass slicks beneath my feet, and every time my skin brushes against the damp ground, a shiver ignites in my bones. But I pick up speed, my heart hammering against my ribs. The maze looms over me, its towering walls of hedges swallowing me whole as I plunge deeper into the darkness. The thick night air wraps around me in a suffocating noose. My shallow inhales scrape my throat as some of the branches claw at my arms, snagging on the fabric of my dress. I hear the rustle of leaves behind me. My spine tingles with a sharp chill. He’s close. I can feel him along with the beat in my chest. Hear him amidst the buzz in my ears. That quiet, steady presence hunts me through the dark. Sometimes clear, sometimes faint, as if he’s playing with me. Actually. He is playing with me. He clearly said I’m his toy. Now, if my insides wouldn’t liquefy at the pros