Who am I?
---
You sit up, a steely silence settling over the room. A small chill crawls upon you and you shiver involuntarily. The metallic smell of your "office" seems dark and scary now that you are alone. You know it's unreasonable to be scared; you've worked here for a while now and have stayed later than this. Maybe it's because you can't hear the soft pitter patter of his footsteps, or maybe it's because the radio just lost battery; all you know is that something feels wrong.
You attempt to clear your mind, and to show yourself you are okay (which you actually aren't) and even try to smile (no one's there to see your pain, and the smile turns out to be a weak one). You hear a faint click that makes your head snap around, but you don't know what it is (but you should've, it would made a difference), so you go back to concentrating on your work.
It's your big break, a chance to prevail and make a better way forward in life. (— "Just one more minute, two more minutes, okay, only seventeen minutes left, and then we can go, I promise."—)You feel the intense heat before the see the fire, unknowing, you wipe your sweaty brow (—"Probably just no A/C in the summer, right mijo?"—). Soon you feel small flames, licking up the walls as if saying, 'Too late, you should've known better.'
You spin around, and then back away, not watching where you are going (you are too freaked out to be logical) and your back hits against the metal table, you make an oomphsound and your breath escapes from you. You take long, slow breaths and start to smell smoke, see more fire coming through. What did they say about fire safety again? You rack your mind for answers. You duck down (they always said the oxygen stays at the bottom of the room, right? Or was that the top?) and try to stay calm, even though you just can't. (How would you feel if you were stuck in a metal room with no windows in a fire?)
A flame touches your leg and you scream even though you know that it wastes the precious (albeit little) oxygen you have left.
You scream, feeling your skin burn. Lists of profanities come out of your mouth as you feel your air slowly leave the room.
Your throat burns from lack of air and your skin is now gone(or at least it feels like it's gone), you can't even bear to look down at yourself in fear of seeing yourself in a bad condition.
You let a tear slide down your cheek in solitude, and let your breath go, you let yourself fade and leave without too many regrets. Except one thing that you don't regret, so with your last breath you pray for him . . . then you let go.
---
A/N: I wasn't going to post this, but HecateA (yes, the HecateA said it was her favorite, so I decided I'd post it for her, because she's lovely, and my non-hug gift doesn't seem so amazing after all.
link is yet another snippet from my story on fanfiction.net (Who am I?), which is all second person mystery pieces.
link: Reyna
link: Luke
[This is Esperanza Valdez.]
---
You sit up, a steely silence settling over the room. A small chill crawls upon you and you shiver involuntarily. The metallic smell of your "office" seems dark and scary now that you are alone. You know it's unreasonable to be scared; you've worked here for a while now and have stayed later than this. Maybe it's because you can't hear the soft pitter patter of his footsteps, or maybe it's because the radio just lost battery; all you know is that something feels wrong.
You attempt to clear your mind, and to show yourself you are okay (which you actually aren't) and even try to smile (no one's there to see your pain, and the smile turns out to be a weak one). You hear a faint click that makes your head snap around, but you don't know what it is (but you should've, it would made a difference), so you go back to concentrating on your work.
It's your big break, a chance to prevail and make a better way forward in life. (— "Just one more minute, two more minutes, okay, only seventeen minutes left, and then we can go, I promise."—)You feel the intense heat before the see the fire, unknowing, you wipe your sweaty brow (—"Probably just no A/C in the summer, right mijo?"—). Soon you feel small flames, licking up the walls as if saying, 'Too late, you should've known better.'
You spin around, and then back away, not watching where you are going (you are too freaked out to be logical) and your back hits against the metal table, you make an oomphsound and your breath escapes from you. You take long, slow breaths and start to smell smoke, see more fire coming through. What did they say about fire safety again? You rack your mind for answers. You duck down (they always said the oxygen stays at the bottom of the room, right? Or was that the top?) and try to stay calm, even though you just can't. (How would you feel if you were stuck in a metal room with no windows in a fire?)
A flame touches your leg and you scream even though you know that it wastes the precious (albeit little) oxygen you have left.
You scream, feeling your skin burn. Lists of profanities come out of your mouth as you feel your air slowly leave the room.
Your throat burns from lack of air and your skin is now gone(or at least it feels like it's gone), you can't even bear to look down at yourself in fear of seeing yourself in a bad condition.
You let a tear slide down your cheek in solitude, and let your breath go, you let yourself fade and leave without too many regrets. Except one thing that you don't regret, so with your last breath you pray for him . . . then you let go.
---
A/N: I wasn't going to post this, but HecateA (yes, the HecateA said it was her favorite, so I decided I'd post it for her, because she's lovely, and my non-hug gift doesn't seem so amazing after all.
link is yet another snippet from my story on fanfiction.net (Who am I?), which is all second person mystery pieces.
link: Reyna
link: Luke
[This is Esperanza Valdez.]
