The Day She Died

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She could stand up straight. There was room enough for that. But when she raised her hands above her head, they hit the ceiling. She could reach them out to the sides too. There was room enough for that. But just a step or so either way and her fingertips touched the walls. And all she could see was absolute perfect nothing. Never before in her life had it been so dark. If she kept her eyes wide until they ran with tears, there was nothing. If she closed them, waited, and opened them slowly… nothing. She held her hand in front of her face, but she only knew it was there from her breath hitting her palm.

Quiet too. No sound at all. Blood in her ears, air in her nose. She cleared her gummy throat and spoke. “Hello?” But the sound didn’t leave her mouth. Seemed to hang like fog at her lips and settle back into her. “Hey!” she called out. “Is anybody there?”

She waited, listening, and then she must have slept again, because when she woke the second time-twitching awake-the taste in her mouth was worse than before and she was clear of whatever she’d been under. She scrambled up and put her hands out, feeling her way around the walls for the door, round and round until she was dizzy, finding nothing.

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