#deathness

[whchwitch]

I mean, Rio may hate ghosts but she loves Agatha.

[julioplazza]

Quando o amigo morre...

[sidadolog]

Dark Thursday. #deathness #sinners #deathsin #allsdark #heavynight #saveyoursoul #killthebody #deathandrise

[the-longest-url-on-here-probably]

She couldn't breathe. Her limbs wouldn't move. It was pitch black. Not a sound to be heard. Stripped of all other senses she began to panic. Her feeling of self awareness was slowly slipping away from her. Did she even have a voice? She tried to make a sound but couldn't open her mouth. She was running out of oxygen. Breathe Ally. She thought. It’s the only thing you can do. She inhaled through her nose. Breathing was difficult at first. She concentrated and it came easier. As she got over the shock of not being able to feel anything, she tried to assess her surroundings. She could feel her arms underneath her. Their circulation was being cut off by the weight of her body. She caught her breath and tried to roll onto her side. She felt a wall press up against her side. She tried rolling the other way. Same result.

Anxiety was creeping up on her again. Wherever she was felt too small. Her senses felt trapped and the air was getting more stale and harder to breathe. How much air is left? She wondered starting to panic. With great difficulty she managed to wriggle onto her back to free her arms. An intense tingling sensation ran up and down her them as the blood rushed back in. She tried using her legs to kick upwards and felt a rope binding them. Kicking with both feet she felt the very near ceiling. Okay, I’m in a box of some kind. She concluded. The feeling back in her arms, she felt around the inside of the box. It was some kind of metal. The metal was warm, which meant she had been in here for a while. But why?

She tried to remember what she was doing before she woke up in this box. She had been driving to work. Minding her own business. Her job was nothing special. She was a secretary for one of the best lawyers in Manhattan. I'm lucky to even have that job, she thought. Fresh out of college with a degree in theater, she hadn’t realized how hard it really was becoming an actress.

Ever since her parents took her to see a show on Broadway when she was eight, she had been completely infatuated with the idea of performing on stage and in movies. In high school she had tried out for every single play they put on and successfully obtained the lead role in each one. Whether it was a musical, or just a regular play didn’t matter. She came out on top every time.

So naturally when she graduated, it was obvious that she would major in theater. But getting a degree in theater and getting an acting job were two entirely different things, and one was much easier to do than the other. She had tried for months to get a decent acting job, but it seemed everywhere she turned a door was slammed in her face. It seemed as though she had tried out at every theater in Manhattan. At one point, she went to a theater downtown and tried out. When she was called back for the lead role, she was ecstatic. Unfortunately, a month before their show was going to perform, the theater went bankrupt and was shut down.

Unemployed, and thoroughly discouraged, she began looking for other job opportunities. Though it wasn’t her first choice, secretary seemed like the best option. Luckily, she had scored the best paying secretarial job in Manhattan. Amazing benefits, really.

But that didn’t explain why she was here. Wherever here was. Why would she be here? Alright, I was driving… I don’t remember making it to work. I must’ve blacked out and then woken up here. She didn’t remember having any reason for blacking out. Car crash? Did someone knock her in the head? Drug her? Well, people usually don’t remember events that happen immediately before they go unconscious. For all she knew she had already been at work today. Wait, is it even today? How long have I been out? She lifted a hand to look at her watch and it bumped against the top of the box. Right. First I need to get out of here. She kicked up. The box didn’t even shudder. Not about to give up, she kicked harder. She kicked until her feet felt like they were going to fall off. Literally. She tried pushing with both arms and her legs combined. No matter how hard she pushed nothing happened. It didn’t even budge. Like concrete. Concrete.

Dread seeped into her, crushing any hope of escape. Concrete. Concrete doesn’t let anything through. Not oxygen and certainly not me. As what was going to happen sank in she began to cry. Crying won’t help anything. She thought, it’s just wasting oxygen. Someone will miss me at work and come looking for me. Yeah. No need to panic. She took a few breaths. Breaths that weren’t as full as previous ones. Her oxygen wasn’t going to last much longer. What was she going to do? What could she do? Nothing. Despair settled in. She closed her eyes. Perhaps for the last time. I can’t break through concrete. Even if I screamed no one would hear me. Someone hated me enough to basically bury me alive. Her breathing became shallow. She tried to breath deeper, to actually get some oxygen into her lungs. But it was like her lungs had turned on her. As if they had decided to do the opposite of what they were designed to do. She couldn’t inhale. She could feel herself fading. So this is death, she thought, I’ll probably just black out.

Suddenly the box started moving. She heard muffled grunting outside as if two people were lifting something heavy. Her heart leapt. She was being carried somewhere. Maybe they would get her out before it was too late. Of course I’m not going to die. Why kidnap someone if you’re just going to kill them? Makes no sense. Wow, Ally, way to panic. You’re ridiculous. She laughed out loud. Any minute now they were going to let her out, and sweet, fresh air would be available. Endless air.

She felt the box being put down. Minutes passed. The dwindling air supply wasn’t strengthening, and she still inside the box. She tried to cry out. Not enough air left to support her words. Something was cracking outside. Something close. The concrete. Without warning, a sliver of light appeared above her to the right. Barely wide enough to fit a piece of paper through, though at least now there was something to look at.

As quickly as it appeared, it started fading. No. No I need the light. Light is air. Panicking, she reached towards the light, but could no longer lift her oxygen deprived arms. She realized that it wasn’t the light fading, her eyes wouldn’t stay open. She forced her eyes open. I can’t die here. Not like this. The sliver of light grew faint. I can’t. This is it. Her mind relaxed, accepting reality. The box wasn’t opening, and neither were her eyes. She exhaled softly. Her last.

[exquisite-pieces-of-heart]

Okay so…my back is officially screwed and i just have to lay here like a starfish, more like a vibrating starfish cause my body won’t stop moving..until the drugs do there thang….ain’t life grand.