Depthless: Under The Library

Chapter Twenty-One// Skye

Skye's POV

I an in my happy place... I am in my happy place...

I curl myself up against the rocky wall, eyes peeled apart so long that they turned drier by the second. I wrap my arms around my legs, taking special comfort for my injuries, and shivered as the long chills struck my body as time slowly consumed my sanity.

I am in my happy place...

Shakily, I pull myself in tighter, huddling against the wall to block half my body from the cold I only just began to feel. Suddenly, my good old pair of jeans don't seem so comfy any more.

It's been hours since the last doughnut fell from the sky.

The last message had been short and curt, yet, it left me settled with the dreadful feeling of abandonment like a tonne of bricks conking me on the head...

Wait. Sry.

Balling up my fists, I fight back the tears threatening to leak from my dry eyes. So this is what complete isolation feels like. So cut off, so abandoned, so lonely, so terrified of your outcome...

The hours drifted by, no more food fell, no drink to quench my ever growing thirst. The cool air blows away what little was left of my hydration, seeping off the saliva from my tongue, leaving me raw and dried like a prune.

I couldn't even think about Niko. How is he? What condition is he in? Is he safe now? I just flick the bugging irritating little nickers of doubtful thoughts installed on my brain built-in to cause me a whole lot of pain and misery...

Whatever the chances of my survival are at the moment... it's as low as the chance of a pool of clear water appearing in the middle of the floor, complete with exotic insects and birds, with little tricking jets of water spurting into the air...

My stomach rumbles and I press into it with my fist until I feel that one good punch would do me over. I never felt so vulnerable before, in my life.

I push my head back against the wall and suppress a moan. When will be my rescue?

The coldness intensifies, the parched patch on my skins and tongue leaves me light-headed. My stomach does funny things, like I'd just jumped off a cliff and swum across the ocean, Olympic style.

The hope that had been illuminated when the first doughnut descended is now put out. Extinguished. The flicker of hope that had pushed away the doubt is now defeated, as the wave of misery crowds into what empty space my soul has to offer...

I force myself to pass out.

*****

I turn over on the cold hard ground, a piteous groaning escapes from deep within me, but I only force myself to turn over and roll closer to the wall. Pressing my body tightly, I grip onto my searing leg, trembling as each slow move sends jolts of pain flaring through my entire body.

Sweat beaded down my forehead. Still, I hug myself harder, holding onto the only piece of warmth, of humanity, in this place.

I force myself to keep my eyes pressed closed. Don't look. Don't open them...

I know that one look could trigger the fears. They hang in the air, drifting around me, threatening to break past the barriers of, whatever, and seep deep, deep into my soul. Terror keeps gawning at my heart, begging me to open the door and receive it, let it sink in...

But I can't. Somehow, I know that if I open my eyes and gaze at the miserable rocky walls and it's unsettling terror-filled silence...

I'll go crazy. I know I will.