One, two, three, BREATHE, four, five, six, BREATHE, seven, eight, nine--
I can’t. I can’t. I can’t. Too dark, like an involuntary blindfold that I can’t rip off. I’ve tried--the scratches on my cheeks are there to prove it. My heart races inside my chest, kicking out a tempo in time with the shallow breaths that push themselves out of my chest. One, two, three, BREATHE, four, five, six, BREATHE. Keep it together. Molly’s out there. Ted, too. Oh dear, so is Emily, poor little Emily.
My bare hands grope the earth, combing through pebbles and soil and grass, blindly searching for the flashlight I dropped. I smack the ground, fall to my knees, paw at the sod beneath me.
“Oh, come on.” A desperate sob burbles into my throat, and I stuff a fist …show more content…
Twigs and rocks spear my bare soles, scratching at my calves, and I heave onto my palms, supported by violently trembling arms. I’ve fallen into a ditch, I realize, one that’s taller than me; this time I do sob, and rightfully so. The images of Molly, Ted, Emily flash in front of my eyes, faster and faster, an unending cycle of anguish. I squeeze my eyes shut and grind my teeth, one, two, three, BREATHE, four, five, six, BREATHE. A guttural sound escapes me, and I force myself to my feet. …show more content…
Bare feet scratch their way up the side of the ditch, powered by wavering arms and split palms. Pebbles spray out from beneath me, and though the dirt that buries itself beneath my fingernails and the sweat that plasters my shirt to my back and the salt from sweat (or is it tears?) on my tongue all feels real, it’s suddenly as though I’m underwater, an unbearable weight pressing in on me from all sides. “MOLLY,” I grit out as I heave myself up, “TED,” eeks its way out of a tightly clenched jaw, “EMILY,” I wheeze, nearly cresting the side of the ditch. As my raw fingers wrap around a spindly overhanging root, I spare a glance down and choke. OnetwothreeBREATHEfourfivesixBREATHE. The ditch that I’d hauled myself out of it gone, replaced by a yawning, barren, cavernous cliff face, the bottom an abyss too far down to see. The darkness is a fog, snaking its way around my ankles, caressing my cheeks with ashen fingers that fill my nose and mouth with an acrid stench like smoke. The branch I grip bows under my weight. A roaring fills my ears, all-consuming and utterly deafening. Tremors wrack my arms with the effort of holding myself up; to let go, to drop, would be so easy, to land in a pillow of ebony, safe and peaceful at last. But. I.
I can’t. I can’t. I can’t. Too dark, like an involuntary blindfold that I can’t rip off. I’ve tried--the scratches on my cheeks are there to prove it. My heart races inside my chest, kicking out a tempo in time with the shallow breaths that push themselves out of my chest. One, two, three, BREATHE, four, five, six, BREATHE. Keep it together. Molly’s out there. Ted, too. Oh dear, so is Emily, poor little Emily.
My bare hands grope the earth, combing through pebbles and soil and grass, blindly searching for the flashlight I dropped. I smack the ground, fall to my knees, paw at the sod beneath me.
“Oh, come on.” A desperate sob burbles into my throat, and I stuff a fist …show more content…
Twigs and rocks spear my bare soles, scratching at my calves, and I heave onto my palms, supported by violently trembling arms. I’ve fallen into a ditch, I realize, one that’s taller than me; this time I do sob, and rightfully so. The images of Molly, Ted, Emily flash in front of my eyes, faster and faster, an unending cycle of anguish. I squeeze my eyes shut and grind my teeth, one, two, three, BREATHE, four, five, six, BREATHE. A guttural sound escapes me, and I force myself to my feet. …show more content…
Bare feet scratch their way up the side of the ditch, powered by wavering arms and split palms. Pebbles spray out from beneath me, and though the dirt that buries itself beneath my fingernails and the sweat that plasters my shirt to my back and the salt from sweat (or is it tears?) on my tongue all feels real, it’s suddenly as though I’m underwater, an unbearable weight pressing in on me from all sides. “MOLLY,” I grit out as I heave myself up, “TED,” eeks its way out of a tightly clenched jaw, “EMILY,” I wheeze, nearly cresting the side of the ditch. As my raw fingers wrap around a spindly overhanging root, I spare a glance down and choke. OnetwothreeBREATHEfourfivesixBREATHE. The ditch that I’d hauled myself out of it gone, replaced by a yawning, barren, cavernous cliff face, the bottom an abyss too far down to see. The darkness is a fog, snaking its way around my ankles, caressing my cheeks with ashen fingers that fill my nose and mouth with an acrid stench like smoke. The branch I grip bows under my weight. A roaring fills my ears, all-consuming and utterly deafening. Tremors wrack my arms with the effort of holding myself up; to let go, to drop, would be so easy, to land in a pillow of ebony, safe and peaceful at last. But. I.