Page 111 of Death is Familiar

Glazing my eyes over, I didn’t try to make sense of the words as they were spoken. They fell over me, lapsed around me, as I crawled and clawed my way to safety to the recesses of my consciousness. To surround myself in warmth and the protective embrace of the dark.

If I was far enough from reality, whatever the Seal did, whatever they said, wouldn’t hurt. No one could judge me. I could shield myself, and try to stitch together the fabric of my new reality. I was just a spectator. My body wasn’t my own. Decisions were being made for me, and it didn’t matter how much I fought, bucked, or screamed, there was always the potential for things to get worse.

The further I burrowed into my mind, the lighter I felt. I was no longer fighting to get away, to dig, but welcomed by a slow lowering as I ventured deeper and deeper. Darker and darker.

Soon, I graced the bottom of a pitch-black pit. The darkness warm and forgiving, its tendrils of shadow a velvet-wrapped purr against my skin.

Somewhere far above, if I concentrated, I could make out the light of the real world happening around me. The Warden’s words couldn’t reach me. Not unless I wanted them to. I’d be okay here, for as long as I needed to be. Until I thought of a way to unleash my wrath upon my captors and escape.

My laugh echoed and swirled, as if I were at the bottom of a well.

But even the bottom of my pit wasn’t far enough to drown out Three’s singing.

†

The woman I once thought was a child sang and sang:

One, One, marvelous, One.

She’ll be the one, to bear us a son.

One came first, by a minute or two,

But she is a number, both tried and true.

So, place your bets, if you always suspected

Number One was your choice, she’ll do what’s expected!

†

Being at the bottom of my pit, I wasn’t sure how much time passed. If I fell asleep, I’d blessedly woken up back in my welcoming patch of darkness.

A very real part of me knew I was in my mind. The other, less dominant part, however, was worried that if I acknowledged my pit was something I’d made up, the illusion would disappear. So, I hovered between willful ignorance and suspension of disbelief for the sake of my own wellbeing.

I stroked the ground, living, breathing, beneath my fingers. I was the only one who could look after me. Jack and Todd wouldn’t know where I was, and they certainly weren’t going to be able to rescue me, with or without the resources of the FBI. And that was if they were allowed to pursue an investigation into my disappearance.

I was holding out hope that being within a few steps of the FBI building, my capture had been caught on camera. If it hadn’t… it would look like I ran away. And Rochan knowing about my passenger would only add to the rumor mill—how I’d acted strange, and stormed out of the FBI building to hide from my fate.

Which would make me look guilty. And Rochan would think—no, she would know—Jack and I crossed the line, even if she didn’t suspect the rest of it, and⁠—

Stop.

Apparently, even in the dark, I still had an enemy. Me.

I’d clawed my way into my pit because I needed to be in control. There was nothing I could do to change how those on the outside saw my situation. It would not do to dwell on all the mights and could-bes. I owed it to myself to care, and give myself safe harbor from the storm hurtling through my life. I needed to weather it. I needed to survive, and in order to do that I’d need to get out.

But only once I collected enough of myself together to face reality.

Again, my laugh echoed. Even while being held captive, I’d managed to escape. That had to be somewhat of an accomplishment. Both a new high and a new low, I most definitely ignored the whispers rumbling in my pit concerned that I was celebrating my own delusions.

I was. I knew that. I did. But I had to look on the bright side. Or the dark, since it was the dark that comforted me.

†

Somewhere far above, the woman who must not have been that much younger than myself continued to sing:

Two, Two, curious, Two.