one night // colby brock

one hundred and three | the opportunities of asphyxiation

Running.

Running.

Running.

My bare feet slamming against the concrete and my chest pounding.

I could feel the heat of the fire burning my back.

I heard sirens.

Sirens.

Sirens means help.

I had to do something.

I had to try.

A fire would alert people in the area if their were any.

The people would alert authorities.

I couldn't sit back and die; im too stubborn.

This was my first opportunity in months.

The first outside noise I had heard in weeks.

I didn't care at this point if I would fry alive or die of asphyxiation.

It was a lifetime of misery if I continued to lay on that floor in the corner.

I hadn't seen sunlight,

I hadn't breathed fresh air.

I hadn't heard the voices of the people I loved.

I hadn't spoke to anyone besides Sydney.

I hadn't allowed myself to break; no cracks or splits in my fragile exterior.

I heard a loud bang from behind me but i didn't look back to check.

It just encouraged me to run faster towards the door at the end of the estate.

After what felt like a lifetime, I had reached the door

I flung it open, not caring if I alerted her or woke her up.

I wanted out of here more than anything.

The sirens were louder and practically screaming my name aloud.

The industrial metal door swung open to blindness.

I squinted and held my cut up hands in front of me.

All I could see was flashes of red.

Ronnie, open your eyes.

Open your eyes.

Open your eyes.

Open your eyes.

I force my eyelids to peel back and focus on my surroundings.

Light.

Sunlight.

It burned my eyes but I wanted to burn.

The warmth felt good.

It felt like home although I was far from where home was.

I looked down at my body.

Bruises and dirt that would stain my skin for the rest of my days.

I was on a warm step.

On a warm descending staircase.

That lead to warm grass.

And flowers.

And trees.

And flashing police lights.

I was free.

I was -

The End.