Myriad Istoria

Crumbled

I tie up my hair in front of the long mirror and twist to take a good look at my figure. I smile slyly at my now slim body, tall and elegant. Dancing and exercise have done me plenty good. I observe my long, wavy auburn hair with large hazel eyes that are speckled with bright gold. Long fingers are adorned with three thin, inexpensive but very important rings, and small feet have their toenails painted a jolly pink. I admire myself and turn around, towards my work table. Scattered all over the wooden bench are books and papers, lying in a haphazard manner which is totally my style. A laptop snoozes precariously in one corner of the table while pens and pencils laze in the mess. A lonely eraser with a smile etched painfully into its face hides under a couple of sheets of rough notes.

I sigh and move to the table to clear it. My phone pings on the bed and I gladly jump towards the distraction. Suddenly, the window right next to the soft bed seems to brighten. Still holding up the phone, I look at the round ball of light glowing through the window. It is definitely not the sun. Nor is it an illusion.

The something becomes larger and rounder as it spreads its harsh light into the city. It still seems far away, so I bend closer to the window to take a video. I wonder what it might be and turn on the camera. The video continues to record, and the grounded ball continues to grow.

About ninety seconds into the video, the hair on the back of my neck stand up. I know something is going to go wrong, something is wrong. I back away from the window, but it is too late. The ground begins to slide under my feet as I fall backwards. The glass panes of the closed window shatter, scattering sharp glass into the small room. The floor, the building, my very soul begins to shake, but that is not the worst of it.

As I hit my head on the cold floor a large shard of glass enters my left eye. The fall knocks the wind out of me, and time seems to stop as pain wallows me. The entire left side of my head begins to throb, and I scream — at least, I try to. A shock wave presses me into the ground and pushes me to the back wall of the room, where the ajar door swings open. I crash into the edge of the door frame, holding my bloody left eye and screaming in anguish. Tears run down my good eye as I swerve hard and tumble down the stairs to the landing.

Every thud, every hit jolts my body and sends a shot of pain through my head. My bloody and bruised hands fight to hold my eye and to remove the glass piece still stuck in it. Sprawled on the cold wooden landing, I slowly try to sit up. With shaking hands I steady myself, staining the wood with blood and tears. My cuts and bruises begin to throb as the ground continues to shake. My left eye is open, for I cannot close it with the shard in it. The thought of removing it makes me shiver, so I let it stay. My head still pains and my eye still burns, but I look around, wondering what happened. The entire left side of my sight is blackened out, the shift in the quality of my vision is blurred. Before I can register the sequence of events, the ground begins to shake even more, and I hear loud crashing. I look up, and through the still ajar door I see my work table — now empty of items — falling down the stairs.

Towards me.

I try to scramble away but my damaged body is too slow. The table becomes larger and larger as it thunders down towards me. My ears ring with the loud sounds and my head throbs even more. Pain shoots through my body as the table hits me, legs first. Every piece of wood seems to dent me, and the impact makes me swoon. Complete darkness envelopes my vision, and I see no more.

—:—

A large something bears down on my chest. Breath caught, I try to shift out from under the object. Eyes still closed, I jerk backwards, hoping the movement helps. But I instantly hit my head on a hard surface, sending more shots of pain through the already throbbing brain. I open my eyes, both of them. Everything is still dark in front of me. I use my stiff hands to push the object off my chest, and try to sit up. But this time I reach an arm out above me to avoid another impact. It helps, for I feel a thin wooden plank just above where I'm lying down. I push it away, and a slight beam of light enters the hollow where I'm stuck. I know I can make it out of there, so I push harder.