Buried with Darkness
Darkness, hot darkness. She opened her eyes to nothing but the darkness. They wouldn't adjust to the darkness for what seemed like an eternity. And when they did, she was slowly able to make out the interior of the car. The cold touch of the steering wheel shot into her fingers. She pulled back. She thinks, This is my car. The Starbucks stickers are mine, the cherry blossom sent board is mine. This is all mine. But as she looked around, she realized there's something wrong. The car was completely empty. The piles of books weren't in the back seat, the radio was ripped out of the dashboard, her phone wasn't plugged into the charger like always. In fact, she couldn't find her phone anywhere. In the process of looking for it, she found a note slipped under her jacket. Patience is a virtue. It read. As her heart beat started to rise, she could feel her chest compact and her breaths come short. Her palms filled with her sweat and she started to cry. She could hear his voice in her head. As beautiful and dangerous as glass. Patience is a virtue, young one. Learn the art of patience. She started to panic as all the memories rushed through her head. All her worst nightmares come true. This is just another nightmare come true. She told her self. But it was that moment when she rolled her window down and dirt came pouring into her lap that she realized, this was no dream, no nightmare. This was her life. And it was her very life that would cause her death.
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