First Love, First War, First Step |√|

Consuming Blackness

I woke to pain and a mass of darkness. My body had been tossed onto the dirt floor like I was nothing more than a rag doll. Unconsciously, my fingers had wrapped around the teddy bear's worn body sometime while I was floating in the sea of nothingness.

I wondered why they hadn't taken it from me before throwing me into this cursed pit. I didn't think it was because they felt bad for the young woman who still carried around a toy with her.

Carefully, I touched the spot where Meara had shot me. From the positioning of the bandages that someone had taken the time to apply, the bullet had taken a chunk out of my side.

It didn't really matter now. I was going to die somehow: whether it was from starvation, hanging, or something worse.

Now that I had taken stock of everything, I started to notice that darkness more. It seemed to crouch closer, stealing my air and my hope.

Why had I been put in here of all the places? Was it because I had fought back?

I thought about the others to distract myself from the consuming blackness. I pictured Diane's face with her little slightly upturned nose and freckles. I painted Andie's features on the unseen wall with my mind, using thick dark lines to symbolize her inner turmoil.

Of Matthew, I allowed myself to remember his conviction for the cause he had fought for all his life, to remember how elegant of a speaker he was but how bad he was about interacting with just one person.

By the time I had exhausted my inventory of everyone I had ever known, I didn't know how much time had passed me by. I didn't know how long I had laid on that dirt floor unconscious; I didn't know how long I had managed to distract myself from where I was.

The darkness came even closer, spreading its feather-like touch across my ankles. It purred like a cat, daring me to trust it, to give myself up to it.

I tried to shove it away before remembering that I was fighting against an intangible enemy. Instead I chose to run my fingers across every inch of my body, making sure that I was still alive.

Sleep became my escape. I let my dreams bear me further and further away until my reality and my fantasy became blurred.

Every time I woke up, I found myself a little fonder of the darkness that had consumed the remainder of my life. It started to creep closer, realizing that my defenses were coming down.

After what had to be days, I was coated in grime. I could taste the dirt in the back of my throat every time I breathed. It stole the moisture from my tongue, and it shielded me like an inadequate suit of armor.

When a stream of light finally entered the black pit, I wasn't quite sure whether I was relieved or unhappy.

"Get up," an Enforcer said, snatching my arm and yanking me to my feet.

I didn't fight him, not because my strength was gone, but to give him a whiff of my underarm when his too-hard of a pull brought it level with his nose.

His nose crinkled slightly, but his training didn't allow him to loosen his grip on my arm. That was a pity because I was hoping for a stronger reaction.

"So, where are we off to?" I asked after several minutes of being hauled down hallways as if I was nothing more than a sack of flour being delivered to a baker. "You know, I'd like to know if I'm dying today or just being interrogated or something else."

"None of the above," my wonderful Enforcer companion answered in what he probably supposed was a neutral tone of voice. "I'm delivering you to your much-needed bath."