~ELARA~
The dark in the cell didn’t feel like my shadows at all. My shadows… they used to move with me, feel warm sometimes, like they breathed when I breathed. This darkness just felt heavy and dead. It stank like old metal and that gross damp soil you only smell when they dig graves too deep. Like the ground already knew I wasn’t leaving.
I sat on the floor that was so cold it burned through my clothes. My back jammed against the rough wall that kept catching on my shirt. My wrists screamed. Every time I shifted even a little the silver cuffs bit in and this freezing-hot jolt shot up my arms. It messed with my head so bad. Everything got fuzzy. Even breathing felt like work.
How the hell did I screw this up so completely?
I kept replaying it. Walking through the mist. Screaming at K
