Falling, but slowing, as if the soup of black sucked at me, pulling at my descent. I came to an abrupt halt in the dark, hanging upside down it felt before whatever power held me turned me
slowly upright. Crushing against me a moment as if to prove it owned me before retreating. At least, the pressure did. But the black, that remained, absolute and utterly defeating.
I wept for a time, hands over my face, not sure what to do or how to fight back, needing the release of my tears. I have no idea how long I cried into my tightly clasped fingers, or even if time passed at all wherever it was I found myself. But at last the tears ran out, my terror and grief fading into the shadows and I lowered my hands finally and looked up.
Still dark. Panic tried to choke me, shoving its fists of fear do
