[[contintued]]
I try to stand up, but I can’t seem to keep my legs from feeling like rubber and falling back to the ground. My breaths are sharp as I pull myself away from the corpse. Eventually I come to pass the intersection of the tunnel. I make my way through the darkness, barely. All the while I keep both of my hands on the surrounding dirt walls, making sure I don’t stumble.
I’m terrified. I have no idea where I’m going. I have no idea where I could go. So I dart forward, towards the flickering orange light. Everything is completely soundless. I try to lower the volume of my breathing, but am unsuccessful. I clasp my hand over my mouth, muffling my inhalations and exhalations. I’m slowly becoming calmer. The monster within my chest is settling.
I start to slow my pace down as I reach the sporadic flashes of light. There are two ways that I can go. Both walls of the tunnel are lined with lit torches about three quarters of the way up them. They flicker.
“Turn left, Cessy”. So I turn left. There is a soft breeze that hits me dead on. Thank God! That means I am getting closer to getting out of this place.
After walking quite a long ways, I am able to see what lies less than 30 feet in front of me; a ladder. I smile excitedly. I make my way up the wooden ladder. It’s not very sturdy, and squeaks as I ascend. When the ladder ends, I am expecting to be able to see the white snow. I am expecting to see the mountain tops and the grey, grey sky. But instead, I find nothing. I find only the ceiling of this place, which I have known to be there all this time. I just stand here, staring. What am I supposed to do now? I can’t go back?
Just when I am actually considering giving up and turning back, the ground opens. Well, not the ground more of a trap door. I should be hesitant. But no, without any uncertainty at all, I pull myself up out of the tunnels.
There she stands behind the trap door. I just laugh at her, shaking my head. I’m not frightened of her anymore. I’ve seen far many things more terrifying than she. My feet move, along with my heart. I am brave. I can feel it. I no longer am thinking with my mind, but with something more valuable. I glide over to her until we are face to face. She raises one eyebrow and lifts one corner of her mouth as if saying, I’m not afraid of you. Should she be afraid of me? No. But she doesn’t know. She doesn’t know how red my anger flows for her. She doesn’t know how intense my hate towards her burns.
I let the dagger in my sleeve slide down into my grasp, all the while keeping eye contact with her, making sure her focus stays on me, and not my hand.
“I’m going to kill you, Cessy” she eagerly, yet to some extent blankly, informs me. I reply with a deep chuckle. The dagger now rests in my firm, sweaty grip. It’s time for me to go home. As soon as her life is nonexistent, I will be in the safe arms of my mother. I don’t change the expression on my face. With all the force I can find within me, I thrust the weapon into her stomach, right above her bellybutton. Her half-smile fades. It is replaced by a look of sickness and defeat. It makes me feel exhilarated. When she doesn’t fall to the ground, I sharply twist the dagger inside of her. My upper lip twitches slightly. I wrench the knife out of her and watch her drop. Her face wrinkles into a painful look. I wait for it to disappear. I wait quite impatiently for the light to leave her eyes.
At last, the light is gone. I close her eyes and wait to be thrown out of this world and back into my own. When I am not after thirty seconds, I get on the ground and place my ear against her chest to listen for her heartbeat. It‘s not there. There‘s no heartbeat. I open one of her eyes to discover only white. She’s dead. She’s dead and I’m still here. I begin to hyperventilate and bite my lip.