𝗦𝘁𝗿𝗲𝗲𝘁 𝗥𝗮𝘁 | 𝗠. 𝗥𝗶𝘃𝗲𝗿𝗮[UNDER EDITING]

➪𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗘𝗹𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗻

A large pit.

A large pit, is what they are dragging us to.

Miguel is still helplessly thrashing around, but I now lay limp, letting my legs drag on the ground.

I am terrified.

The pit is filled with water.

I can't swim.

First, they throw Miguel in. He continues screaming as he falls.

Not like that would do anything useful.

It wasn't until he disappeared underwater that they toss me in after.

I close my eyes, ready to be engulfed in a pit of darkness.

Miguel can swim. I know that for sure. At least I can die knowing that the boy I care so much about will be safe.

And alive.

Finally, after what seems like an eternity, I fall into the freezing water.

I keep my eyes closed. I not even going to make an effort to swim.

It's useless.

I'm slipping slowly into unconsciousness. Splotches of darkness are taking over my eyesight.

I am. . .happy. Almost a euphoric-like happiness. Miguel is smart enough to make it out of here alive. I know that he doesn't have to worry about me anymore.

I know now what I will see. I will wake up where the freshly-dead go. But this time, a complete skeleton. Miguel will escape from the pit, and eventually be sent back. He will leave me behind. And I am fine with that. 

I can finally be set free of my misery.

Down and down, I sink. Closer and closer, I am to death.

I can barely think anymore. I don't even notice the arms that wrap themselves around my waist.

I am too caught up in my own thoughts.

Too caught up in the thought of my death.

The thing that pulls me out of those thoughts? My body jerking upwards.

I open my eyes in an instant. I can't help but feel a little frustrated.

Frustrated that my peaceful death is being interrupted. 

I want to push them away. I want to tell them to let me die in peace, but something stops me.

Maybe it is the exhaustion? Maybe it is an uncovered fear? I don't know. Which makes me even more frustrated.

Regardless of all of this, I let the figure carry my limp body to the surface.

I now resurface. There isn't any water in my lungs, due to the lack of fight I put on. But still, I hesitate to take a breath.

When I take the breath, everything I had felt, thought, and wished, is all behind me.

Except for the overwhelming exhaustion. Which isn't surprising, to say the least.

I feel my body hit the ground away from the water. I shoot my eyes open and start to breath heavily.

"(Y/N)? (Y/N)? Are you hurt? Can you breath alright?" A voice asks me.

Miguel.

He's the one that saved me.

I should have known.

But now, the frustration is back. I'm not frustrated at Miguel, but just in general. I take a few shaky deep breaths, trying to compose myself.

"I'm. . .f-fine. Everything. . .is. . .fine."