All In Your Mind
Samantha
I knew before I opened my eyes that the door was open.
I sat up in darkness, it pressing in all around me. But I still knew the door was open. I blinked at the nothingness that surrounded me. It was as if somebody had poured the darkness in, stirred in the shadows. As if I could reach out and touch it. I got out of bed for the first time in over twenty-four hours but it felt like longer, as if I'd been there for my entire life. My legs wobbled and I fell to the ground; hard.
"Hello?" I called out for anybody to hear, but my voice sounded tinny and unreal even to my own ears. Even my throat felt like it had been resting for longer than a day, and talking felt strange. I crawled forward inch by inch on my hands and knees, my heart hammering under my thick sweater. I still couldn't see a thing but I knew the layout of my room and knew I'd be coming to the wall soon. I stretched out my hand, waving it in front of me like a blind man, waiting for it to hit the wall. I kept crawling, but no solids hit my outstretched palm. "What's going on?"
I could feel an anxiety attack hovering, like a beast prowling around me in the dark, ready to pounce. My breath was hitching at the back of my throat, catching and wavering and turning into a gasping pant like a dog trapped in a hot car. My chest tightened so much I scrabbled at it with panicked hands, convinced that somebody had actually wrapped something around it, but there was nothing. Then suddenly I felt as if the walls were caving in on me, ready to topple over on top of me and bury me under all the rubble and wreckage. A scream tore from my throat and echoed up and down the hall; bouncing off the walls and coming back to mock me. Even when my vocal cords had long since stopped constricting, the sound reverberated on, echoing in my ears, taunting me.
I curled into a foetal position, clutching my knees to my chest and sobbing. Was I finally going mad?
"Samantha, was that you?"
The voice sounded like it was coming from far away. As if somebody had left a phone on speaker just out of earshot, the words only just making it to me as my own screams faded away. I crawled forward, trying to pinpoint where the voice had come from. I didn't want to shout out again, in case it was a trap.
"Samantha? It's me, Fawkes."
A flicker of light came just to my left, and suddenly he was next to me, standing above me with a candle in his hand. His face was pale and drawn, dark shadows under his eyes. He looked like he was dead. He reached down a skeletal hand and pulled me up. My own hand looked as thin as his, though I was never very skinny. I flinched away, disgusted by my own body that suddenly felt very frail.
"Where are we?" I whispered, my voice still strange and tinny sounding.
"Still in Sunnyroad, I think," he answered. His voice sounded strange as well, his accent faded and twisted and unrecognizable. "I think I know what's happened. I think..."
Before he could finish there was a loud howling that built up behind us. A wind came out of nowhere, whipping through my hair and tugging like unrelenting hands at my clothes. The candle that Fawkes had been holding was blown out. The two of us clung to each other as the howling got louder and the wind stronger, both of us dropping to a crouch and backing up until we hit something solid. Fawkes was shouting something right in my ear, but it was like the wind was whipping his words away. Tears were streaming down my cheeks, partly because of fear but also because I was keeping them open against the wind, desperate not to close my eyes because I wanted to know what would be sneaking up on me.
When I did finally cave in and close my eyes, the wind and howling stopped and everything vanished so I was tumbling backward into a free-fall, a scream in my throat that wouldn't leave and thoughts in my head that I couldn't even process as I fell towards what I was sure was either death or insanity.
I sat up in darkness, it pressing in all around me. But I still knew the door was open. I blinked at the nothingness that surrounded me. It was as if somebody had poured the darkness in, stirred in the shadows. As if I could reach out and touch it. I got out of bed for the first time in over twenty-four hours but it felt like longer, as if I'd been there for my entire life. My legs wobbled and I fell to the ground; hard.
"Hello?" I called out for anybody to hear, but my voice sounded tinny and unreal even to my own ears. Even my throat felt like it had been resting for longer than a day, and talking felt strange. I crawled forward inch by inch on my hands and knees, my heart hammering under my thick sweater. I still couldn't see a thing but I knew the layout of my room and knew I'd be coming to the wall soon. I stretched out my hand, waving it in front of me like a blind man, waiting for it to hit the wall. I kept crawling, but no solids hit my outstretched palm. "What's going on?"
I could feel an anxiety attack hovering, like a beast prowling around me in the dark, ready to pounce. My breath was hitching at the back of my throat, catching and wavering and turning into a gasping pant like a dog trapped in a hot car. My chest tightened so much I scrabbled at it with panicked hands, convinced that somebody had actually wrapped something around it, but there was nothing. Then suddenly I felt as if the walls were caving in on me, ready to topple over on top of me and bury me under all the rubble and wreckage. A scream tore from my throat and echoed up and down the hall; bouncing off the walls and coming back to mock me. Even when my vocal cords had long since stopped constricting, the sound reverberated on, echoing in my ears, taunting me.
I curled into a foetal position, clutching my knees to my chest and sobbing. Was I finally going mad?
"Samantha, was that you?"
The voice sounded like it was coming from far away. As if somebody had left a phone on speaker just out of earshot, the words only just making it to me as my own screams faded away. I crawled forward, trying to pinpoint where the voice had come from. I didn't want to shout out again, in case it was a trap.
"Samantha? It's me, Fawkes."
A flicker of light came just to my left, and suddenly he was next to me, standing above me with a candle in his hand. His face was pale and drawn, dark shadows under his eyes. He looked like he was dead. He reached down a skeletal hand and pulled me up. My own hand looked as thin as his, though I was never very skinny. I flinched away, disgusted by my own body that suddenly felt very frail.
"Where are we?" I whispered, my voice still strange and tinny sounding.
"Still in Sunnyroad, I think," he answered. His voice sounded strange as well, his accent faded and twisted and unrecognizable. "I think I know what's happened. I think..."
Before he could finish there was a loud howling that built up behind us. A wind came out of nowhere, whipping through my hair and tugging like unrelenting hands at my clothes. The candle that Fawkes had been holding was blown out. The two of us clung to each other as the howling got louder and the wind stronger, both of us dropping to a crouch and backing up until we hit something solid. Fawkes was shouting something right in my ear, but it was like the wind was whipping his words away. Tears were streaming down my cheeks, partly because of fear but also because I was keeping them open against the wind, desperate not to close my eyes because I wanted to know what would be sneaking up on me.
When I did finally cave in and close my eyes, the wind and howling stopped and everything vanished so I was tumbling backward into a free-fall, a scream in my throat that wouldn't leave and thoughts in my head that I couldn't even process as I fell towards what I was sure was either death or insanity.