A Writer's Aesthetic || Short Stories

¶ Burning Lungs: part one

WARNING. Violence and stuff 😂😂😀 

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"Thirty seconds," Jamison called out to the girl struggling for air. Her head was submerged in a barrel filled to the brim with water; she was trying her absolute best to fight against the fire in her lungs that was begging for air. She could feel the roughness of the wood beneath her fingers and she tightened her grip on the barrels rim. It was almost over.

She wasn't going to make it.

She promised him. She promised him she would come back.

And she wasn't going to make it.

Sparrow Ramirez had been submerged under water for exactly one minute and forty five seconds.

Fifteen more mere seconds to go. All she could see was blue and purple, purple and blue. All she could feel was the elephant sitting on her chest, making her struggle against the hands forcing her down into what would be her watery grave. Every second that ticked by felt like an eternity.

Sparrow let out her air.

She remembered how beautiful the bubbles looked as they left her parted lips and popped at the surface she couldn't reach. She remembered how painful the feel of water filling her lungs and taking the place of the non-existent air-it had been a miracle on its own that she had even lasted so long-, and she remembered hearing him.

Alex, a boy no older than eight, making her swear she would come home before he woke up. Made her swear that she would make him pancakes in the morning.

He made her swear she wouldn't leave him like their parents had, and everyone knows that a pinky promise could never be broken. Yet, there she was, losing her grip faint grip on her consciousness and giving into the sleepy haze.

At least this way she wouldn't feel the burn of the lacerations the whip had made on her back. Maybe this way she wouldn't have to worry about every single thing presented to her, but leaving this way would destroy Alex in every possible way. She felt herself pulled back, hot air hitting her face immediately but she could hardly move her limbs that felt like they were made of lead. The girl's body collapsed, no air making it's way into her lungs since the water had taken up the room. She couldn't scream. She couldn't speak. All she could do was wait until the butler ended it for her. Until he pulled the gun he had pulled on the frantic girl earlier who tried to leave. Until he ended her life for her.

When Sparrow opened her eyes again it was abrupt, sudden, as she coughed up the blue death that had filled her, gasping as the man who resuscitated her had pulled back immediately. His hand then hitting her back to help her cough up what was left, which only made painful jolts travel through her in a haste.

"That's not fair!" Another girl had screeched, her green eyes wide I'm disbelief as the man unknown to her had helped her to her feet gently, letting her lean on him as needed. Even in her painful state, Sparrow managed to sneer in a raspy and broken voice.

"I believe you were supposed to cut out your eye? You cut off a toe. If you have a damn problem with it then come on! I'll do it again but you had better lose one eye!" Every word had burned her, but at least the girl had finally shut up. Sparrow didn't know what she would have done if she kept having to hear that shrill voice. Before she knew it, she was sitting again with her soaked curls hanging heavily on her head, weighing her down. She held the denim jacket given to her earlier closer around her almost bare top half. She had lost her own shirt and her own jacket when she was whipped. The man who saved her from drowning had given her his so she would be covered.

She was curious then as to why he would even give any thought into helping her. Her dark and tired eyes had traveled over to the male next to her, just studying him curiously while his emotionless and cold glare was stuck on Jamison. He had a nice jawline she had to admit, though it was set in anger. His dark and ruffled hair was wet just like hers, him having taken the barrel just like her. He was in no way scrawny, fit and lean and much taller than her. His blue eyes had finally caught her dark ones staring, raising an eyebrow. Even though the words were unsaid she just knew he was going to get her out alive.