I was falling, but not really. There was no air, I couldn't breathe, I couldn't even move. Petrified I continued to plunge downward. My mouth lay parted as I tried to inhale the obscure air, but there was none to do so with. I tried to scream, but my speech had been stolen.
Any second I could be met with land, any minute I would feel the hard surface pushing against my body. I cringed at the thought of being stuck here forever.
Then, I stopped. I wasn't met with land, but I wasn't falling anymore either. I was still unable to move. My legs were spread apart slightly; my arms were outstretched. My short hair stood straight up, waving from side to side slightly and my mouth had dropped open.
Suddenly I fell to the ground, speeds faster than a cheetah. I was able to scream once again and took the opportunity to do so.
I met the ground sooner than I had thought I would, and fell on my back, the wind fully knocked out of me. I heard the sound of my decent echo as I breathed heavily. Where was I?
It was pitch black, too dark to make anything out, but soon I heard Steve land a ways away. I got up from my crouched position as I tried to see him or even just a shadow.
“Steve,” I whispered in a raspy voice, I cleared my throat and tried again. “Steve?”
“Over here,” He grumbled back, “but don't move. I hear water.
I stopped my foot in mid-air and placed it back behind me, “I don't hear anything.”
There was a pause and I heard Steve groan again, he sounded like he was in pain, “Just, don't move. Are you hurt?”
I poked at my arms and legs with my hand, “No... Are you?”
Steve mumbled under his breath and then said, “Yeah, I think I broke my arm.”
I bit my lip, “I'm coming over,” I decided.
“No!” Steve snapped. “Didn't you hear me the first time! I think there's water, it's dangerous.”
“Oh and what's gonna happen? I'll die again?” I said, hands on my hips as if he could see me.
Steve sighed but didn't protest, so I took that as an initiative to go ahead. I crouched down near the ground and gripped the soft dirt I felt. I moved my hands farther in front of me, my fingers tickled by a few strands of grass protruding from the surface. As I crept closer to the water Steve had talked about I began to hear it. Fear shot through me, I couldn't see anything and there may be something near by.
“Calm down, Clare,” I told myself, “you're already dead.”
I laughed, thinking that now I was actually afraid of death, when I was already deceased, and I had done it by my own hand.
I felt my hand slip under something wet and liquid. It felt fine at first, normal room temperature, then it changed. It began to get hotter and I tried to pull my hand out but it wouldn't budge. I whimpered softly, trying to free my now burning hand. I could see steam rise in the darkness and I continued to try to pull my hand out.
“S-Steve,” I said loudly even though I knew he couldn't help me.
“What?” He said. “What's wrong?”
“My hand, it's... it's stuck! It's stuck in the water.”
“What!” He said and I could hear him shift spots.
“It hurts!” I said trying to stifle back a scream.
“I told you to be careful. I-” Steve started to say, but then he stopped.
YOU ARE READING
Suicide Killed The Body, Not The Soul
ParanormalAfter Clare makes the decision to commit suicide and follows through with it she is sent to Hell. There she meets a boy named Jake whose abusive past was not unlike her own. When Jake is taken from Clare she vows to get him back or at least die, if...
