Page 54 of Bound by Stars

Weslie

I blink. A flash of burning, melting plastic. My eyelids are too heavy. A high-pitched buzzing fills my ears. I try to hold my head before the noise rips it in half, but I can’t move my hands. I can’t move anything.

Smoke fills my nose, my throat, my lungs.

The smell of burning leather. No. Something sickly sweet, rotting.

Is it me? Am I burning? I’m too frozen to be on fire.

Everything hurts. The cold burrows into me, gnawing on my bones like a scavenger feeding on a wounded animal.

A shiver rips through me. My breaths are short and fast. Shuddering. There’s no air.

The floor moves under me, sliding away. I’m being dragged. Or am I falling?

Sleep. I need to sleep. I sink into darkness.

…

Someone gasps, loud and full, punctuated by a cry. My chest expands. Cool, oxygenated air fills me. I’m still here. An icy prickle creeps through me. Deep. Moving toward my heart, still beating slowly, every pulse drawn out.

My vision is foggy. White haze. I lift my head, hitting glass with a hollow thud . No, plastic. I try to lift my hands, but the effort is too much.

My muscles soften. The cold recedes. My heart slows. I’m so tired.