Through Glass(53)

It.

Sarah.

No, I couldn’t think like that. I didn’t want to. My head spun as I wiped the warm fluid from my face, my eyes widening at the heap of black that covered the ground beside me. I felt numb as I stared at the body of the thing beside me. My eyes burning as part of me hoped it would start breathing again. I had killed them before and shouldn’t be reacting like this, but this time was different. It hadn’t always been the black monster. It had been my friend.

I turned my head away, my body begging me to go to sleep, but I couldn’t. More would be coming.

I tried to push myself to sitting, but everything in my body called out in pain with each small movement. I didn’t stop, though, I let the sounds escape as I ignored the pain. I pulled the pack from off my back, my hands ripping the zipper open as I fiddled with the lighter.

I fell onto my hands and knees, dragging paper and anything burnable with me as I barricaded it behind broken shelves. I dragged as much as I could find before bringing the lighter forward, spinning the wheel just as a screech echoed through the store. It came from somewhere behind me, the sound loud and oppressive.

I ran my finger over the wheel as the light came faster now; the old, dried papers blazing within moments.

My breathing slowed as the fire caught and spread, everything catching quickly until the brightness of the light touched everything I was surrounded by. I would be safe, as long as the fire was here. I would be safe.

My head pounded painfully as the skin swelled and pulsed. I placed as much burnable material in the makeshift fire pit as I could. It piled higher and higher until I couldn’t take the pain and I was sure I was going to pass out.

I knew it was dangerous, that I should ignore the pull of my subconscious. First aid one oh one. If you have a concussion, stay awake. I had a bad feeling that that would not be happening. I didn’t think I could control it.

Everything spun as the world went black, the light from the fire dimmed and I felt myself collapse to the ground.



The Tar are the dead. Beware the ones who are cut

The words traveled through my head over and over as I lay on the cold floor, the warmth from the fire washing over my skin. I was trapped somewhere between dreaming and sleeping, my body trying its hardest to stay asleep even though something was desperately trying to get me to wake up.

Everything felt heavy like over risen dough. My body felt sticky and disconnected. I moved my arms slowly, grabbing for my pillow, for the wrist watch, but my fingers only came in contact with shards of glass and a hard floor. I froze as I felt them, fear stinging my nerves as my mind began to fully awaken, pain coming back strong as my memory over what had happened replaced itself. Everything hurt, the heavy mass of my arms filled with a dull throb that shot up my arm and into the wound in my head.

Even without running my fingers over it I could feel the cool, sticky, blood matted in my hair.

I ran over everything that had happened—once, twice—over and over until I recalled everything. The fight, Sarah’s transformation, blacking out right after I built a fire…

Beware a cut wrist.

It seemed that the rules were right. Every one of those haunted writings continued to prove themselves one after another.

I had watched my friend turn into a monster.

I waited for my mind to accept everything as reality and not merely the nightmare world I had been trapped in. Slowly, acceptance came, the thought process feeling as sluggish and hefty as my body did.

I wasn’t surprised that I didn’t want to remember Sarah’s transformation, who would? I had watched my best friend turn into a monster, I had watched her try to kill me. I had killed her.

I moved slowly, my body aching as I pushed myself toward sitting, my skinny arms shaking in the attempt to hold my weight. I sat awkwardly, my head spinning at the movement as blood pulsed painfully under my skull. I could complain about the pain, but I was more thankful to be alive at the moment. Neck slicing aside, I should be the one that was dead.

I pushed myself to sitting and closed my eyes. I let the warmth from the fire wash over my skin as I waited for the dizziness to stop.

My eyes opened slowly only to widen in shock at the massive blaze in front of me. Large pieces of wood stuck out of the fire, crinkled paper and pieces of cereal boxes. They curled and burned and gave off the light that was necessary for survival. I should have been happy for the fire, for the light, but I couldn’t be. I hadn’t placed any of the new wood and paper inside the fire.

Someone else was here.

Everything tensed as I looked around me for whoever might be there. The pulse of my heart beat heavily in my ears as I looked. I couldn’t see anyone, I didn’t hear any odd noises. Just silence.

I could still get away.

I didn’t dare move because I was scared that the sound of my feet against the garbage which lined the floor would be too much. That whoever was here would hear me and know that I was awake.

That they would try to kill me, too.

I had hoped to find survivors—others like me—however when I did, she had turned into one of the monsters right before my eyes. I wasn’t sure what I could trust anymore.

I turned toward the monster silently, the black body limp and dead. Sarah. No, not Sarah; I didn’t want to think of her like that. I couldn’t. I shook my head and crawled toward the creature, my fingers curling around the bed rail that still protruded from its neck.