One Night

Chapter Twenty Eight

Alara

Kicking up, out of the water is impossible. It is like a vacuum of water, sucking me down no matter how much I try to go up.

Water fills my nose, my lungs, every part of me. I try to hold on to my life, but with each second that passes it becomes harder.

The salt in the water burns my eyes. I twist, my hair tangling around me as I go deeper and deeper into the darkness.

Each time I move, the water seems to light up with small sparks of blue. The more I struggle, the more it envelopes me.

My lungs burn like they have been dipped in acid. Bubbles leave my lips—each one a signifier of the air that I no longer have. Until there are none left.

For a moment, I feel weightless, my head feeling so dizzy and lightheaded that the darkness I am submerged in seems to come alive with colours and light.

The colours dance and move, like gentle lights in different shades of blue. It is magical, like how I'd imagine it would be to fly out into space to watch the stars dance.

There is no way this is real. Is this what happens after death?

My body keeps being sucked down. I cough out the water in my lungs, and my body automatically inhales more in. It burns all over again, the pain making me cry on air I don't have.

My hands fly to my throat, tears filling my eyes only to be washed away by the stinging salt water.

I cough out more, the water tasting like acid. It hurts so much. From every direction, the pressure of the water seems to squeeze me. Please, please, please. I want this to be over.

The force of the water seems to lift for a moment, before I am plunged into it again—this time, it is not salty.

I'm barely able to kick up, but some sort of survival instinct gets my head above the water. I hold onto the strange silver outer lining of what seems to be a pool, hurling all of the water out of my body and onto pure black stone floors.

I can hear sounds but they're muffled by the deep ringing in my ears. A deep pain throbs at the back of my head. Somehow, I'm alive.

Each breath I take, even without salt water in my lungs, burns like I am breathing fire. A woman steps in front of me, holding out a glass of water. I am going to kill her. Why would I possibly want water right now?

Her tinted pink lips move, and I can hear the gentle muffle of her voice, but I can't hear anything.

She helps me over the edge of the giant tub of water and I sink onto the cool black stone, my body feeling completely drained and empty.

"Where am I?" I try to ask, but I can't even hear my own voice.

From the expression on her face, she heard me—but for some reason, she is staring at me as if I swore her mother.

She turns, her white robe swishing, and speed walks out of the room too fast for me to stop her.

I try to lift myself from the smooth floor, but my arms feel weak, as if I did pushups non-stop for three days. Shifting onto my back, I splay my arms out at my sides and take deep breaths.

Okay, I'm alive. Possibly.

Another deep breath.

I need to figure out where I am, and then figure out how to get back to Diyar.

A frustrated groan leaves my lips. I just want to kick something; to squeeze something; to throw something so hard that it smashes into tiny little irreparable pieces.