The Last 384 Hours

7

Song: In the Water (Music from the Netflix Original Series "Spinning Out") by Joy Downer

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Dead girls don't dream. And here's the obvious fact: I wasn't dead-and I hoped I wasn't going to be dead any time soon.

Although it took me a long time to register what was happening to me; why I was standing in a poorly lit, almost dim pit. Why the air was ice cold and why two yards away from me, stood a little girl in pink tights and a leotard; her back facing me. Her still, tiny figure was almost invisible in the dark.

I pushed my numb-feeling body toward her, squinting my eyes. I'd only managed to take three steps forward when I stopped abruptly, finally getting to see what'd grabbed her attention. She was looking into a mirror. A large mirror that covered an invisible wall that ran from west to east. I couldn't even tell where west started and where east ended. I could only tell that the glass was clearly reflecting everything in this dim pit-the strange little girl and the never ending darkness-except for me.

I pushed my body forward again, and slowly, the little girl's reflection became a lot more clearer. Her hair-darker than the night sky-was pulled into a tight ballerina bun. Her eyes-a striking green-stared broodingly at her reflection.

My breath hitched and then a second later, I wondered why I wasn't moving anymore. When I looked down at my feet, they were still there; just unmoving. It's then that I realized that my body was so numb, I didn't even feel myself stagger back when I'd recognized the young girl; the rare and frightening darkness of her hair; the striking intensity of her green gaze.

She looked exactly like me a few years ago. Probably in the seventh grade. Her eyes remained focused; zeroed in on her face. I was waiting for her to spot my reflection on the glass and then start tearing up. I was waiting for her to ruin her hair, and stare at me before walking away.

I was waiting for the lightning; for the pain; the burn. Because that was the last time I'd spotted her. When I'd been burning; deteriorating, she'd been there. I'd seen her on the fourteenth of February, right before the darkness had engulfed me.

But no, here she was different. She wasn't an emotional wreck, nor could she see me.

The chances of the parking lot scene repeating itself were debatable. The current atmosphere of this dark pit was still just as uninviting as it'd been the first time I'd found myself here. Although, this time there was no unknown force orchestrating my movements, nor was there any rain. I was adamant I wouldn't find myself in the Princeton student parking lot again.

But then again, I couldn't be too sure, because somewhere at the back of my mind, I knew that I'd seen my thirteen-year old self while I was still writhing in pain a few yards away from Williams Jeep; waiting for my heart to stop beating; for the electric current to fry my brain and kill me.

The image of my sorrowful-looking thirteen-year old self turning her back on me was vivid. But maybe she was the reason for all of this. Maybe she was the reason I woke up stuck in between the real world and the spiritual realm. Maybe she was the reason why I hadn't died immediately.

And maybe now that she was here, I'd be able to wake up-completely. Flesh and all. Or maybe I'd just die, officially this time.

Either way, the chances that I would find myself at Princeton again were slight. Slight, but there. The thought made my stomach twist. But this was no time for cowardliness. As much as having electric current flowing through my body again startled me, I was willing to feel the pain. I'd give anything to be in my human body again.