Break of Day

14) Return

A heavy hand clasps over my mouth; an equally ghostly hypodermic of adrenaline pierces my heart, unloading in an instant as I struggle against the strong grip. I feel my ribs heaving as if bound by ropes, straining to inflate my lungs as an arm wraps around me, holding me to an unseen figure. My head is a carousel of fears spinning out of control, each one pushing my mine into insanity. I need to run to her, to save her, but I can't. I'm stuck, held in an unbreakable hold.

The drums of death beat in the distance.

"Not her!" I gasped into the suddenly soft grip, fingers desperately digging into the smoothed arm; it was my only barrier between me and her. The only thing keeping me from reaching her.

My thrashing twisted his grip tighter around my torso and legs. All reason had fled the second he touched her; the second he brought her out, forcing me to watch it all. Helpless to stop anything.

The oxygen that had been drowning me seconds ago had decided to play hide-and-seek. My lungs were violent in their burning search. The drums of death that beat against my skull speed up, warning my lungs that their time was almost out. The effort of the race showed in my chest cavity as my heart tried to flee from the inevitable ending that the fire known as my lungs refused to believe. I could feel my heart's pounding fear in every bone of my body; as if it belonged to a rabbit running for its skin.

I pushed against his grasp, desperate for my last chance at saving her in the sudden darkness. The words of a scream played on my lips, unable to leave as the thought became slush.

My relief, as I finally pushed myself away, sitting awkwardly in the darkness, arm still tight around me, was short-lived. The ghost of the chain didn't leave, even as I clawed desperately at it with the pads of my fingers; though all I could feel was the bare skin of my throat, the chain was now cutting off all chance of freeing my lungs.

The air had turned from bitter wind to hot and stuffy. If I had found the wind that tore and beat my skin to blue torture, then this still, suffocatingly hot air was hell.

I pushed myself to my back; the ropes slid off too easily as I kicked frantically.

The ropes seemed to be the key to my closed throat; oxygen assaulted my deprived lungs which greedily ate it, despite how hot and stuffy it was.

They rejected it far too soon, before trying again. They ordered cool air and I did not wish to deprive them of it any longer.

I pushed myself to my knees and leaned over where I knew the gap between my bed and freedom was. My fingers did quick work of their search for the handle and ripped it open.

My lungs sang as the cool, damp air hit me. It twirled around me, relieving my lungs, drying the sticky sweat, and imprisoning the gruesome scene in the cage of dark fog that had always protected me from these horrors.

As my quick gasps slowly fell into steady breaths, the rest of my body seemed to announce their needs: My swollen, puffy eyelids begged for water and my chapped lips burned in agreement; my pounding head ordered more sleep; my tense muscles complained about my sitting position, and my skin that was itchy and sticky from dried sweat suggested a shower.

I answered my muscles complaint first as I fell back onto my bed. I stared at my dark ceiling as my thoughts finally settled into reality.

I was safe in my bed.

I was safe in Forks.

Maria and Carlton were safe in Idaho, flight stalled due to heavy winds and white-out snow conditions. Dad was safe, starting his police cruiser before leaving for work. Mare was sleeping safely— if the sounds of her gentle snores were anything to go by. Lex was getting ready for school while Allie sat at the counter waiting for Molly to feed her —they had all been on the same schedule due to Allie's internal alarm clock that woke her up at the same time everyday. Can would be at the gym, eager to escape from the house before her mother woke up for work. Mel probably is still asleep, ignoring her twenty-three alarms. Theodore is probably peacefully sleeping in rural New York.