Chapter 23- help me

Chapter 23: 23- help me 23 ~Lisa’s POV At first, I just cried. Curled up in the corner of the dusty room, I let the tears fall, hot and silent. My chest ached, like something heavy had been placed right on top of it. My throat burned, but I didn’t make a sound. No one would hear me. No one would care. I wanted to scream. I wanted to break something. But all I could do was cry. My arms were wrapped tightly around my knees, my dress clinging to me with sweat and dust. The storage room smelled like old wood and damp rags. Everything was dark. Not just outside, but inside me, too. That’s when I felt it. The air. It was too still. Too thick. I blinked, trying to breathe through my nose, but the air didn’t move. There were no windows in the room. No vents. Just walls and boxes and shelves stacked with broken furniture. I tried to take a deep breath, but it caught in my chest. Like my lungs forgot how to work. I tried again. Still nothing. A sharp, hot panic started to rise in my throat. My hands began to shake. It’s okay, I told myself. You’re just scared. Breathe slowly. Breathe slowly. But my body didn’t listen. The room was too dark. The kind of dark that presses against your skin like it wants to crawl inside you. I looked up, hoping for even a crack of light, but there was nothing. Just shadow. And that’s when the memory hit. Not a full memory... just a flash. A feeling. I was small. Trapped. Somewhere tight. Smoke everywhere. My body was shaking. I couldn’t see. I couldn’t breathe. Someone was screaming. I didn’t know when it happened. Or how. But it felt real. Like it had lived inside me all along, waiting for this moment to come back. "No," I whispered, pressing my hands to my ears, as if that would block it out. "Stop it. It’s not real. It’s not real." But my body remembered, even if my mind didn’t. My breaths came faster now, short and sharp. I was gasping. Choking on the air that refused to move. My heart pounded so loudly it drowned out everything else. The darkness felt like it was crawling over me, into me, pressing down on every inch of my skin. I couldn’t breathe. My heart began to race, pounding so loud I could hear it in my ears. I clawed at my chest, trying to force my lungs to work. "No," I whispered to myself. "No, no, not now..." But it was happening again. It always started the same way, every time I had that dream. I didn’t know what it meant. I never remembered what came before or after. Just the fear. The same fear I felt now. I stumbled to the middle of the room, my legs barely holding me up. My knees hit the hard floor with a soft thud, and I pressed my trembling palms against the cold, rough surface, trying to ground myself, trying to stay present. But it wasn’t working. The air felt tighter now, heavier, like it was closing in on me. I gasped for breath, mouth wide open, but it felt like I was breathing through a thick curtain. Nothing was getting through. My chest rose and fell in short, panicked bursts. I choked. Coughed. My vision started to blur, edges darkening like someone was turning the lights down. My ears rang faintly, and every sound became distant, like I was sinking underwater. The room spun slowly, and I gripped the floor harder, my fingers splaying out against the stone, desperate to hold on to something real. But the shadows didn’t let go. They clung to me, wrapped around me like arms that I couldn’t fight off. Arms that pressed down, whispered things I couldn’t understand. I wanted to scream, but my throat was too dry, too tight. I couldn’t even cry anymore. The fear had pushed past the tears and gone somewhere deeper. Somewhere colder. "I don’t want to die here," I whispered, though I couldn’t hear my own voice. That thought hit me like a wave. I wasn’t ready. I wasn’t strong. I hadn’t even lived. I hadn’t seen my father’s smile one last time or told him how much I missed him. I couldn’t stay here. My arms shook as I pushed myself up from the floor. The room spun, but I kept crawling. My knees scraped against the hard ground, and the dust filled my mouth and nose. I coughed, but I didn’t stop. The door. I reached it and leaned my weight against it, my breath shallow and fast. I raised my fist and banged hard. "Help..." My voice came out broken and weak. "Please... someone... help me..." No answer. I banged again, harder this time. "Please! I can’t breathe!" The wood thudded with each hit, but the silence behind it didn’t break. I felt my tears fall again, mixing with the sweat on my face. My head was pounding. My hands ached. My whole body trembled. I screamed. "I didn’t do anything!" My voice cracked. "Please! Don’t leave me here!" Still, nothing. I pressed my forehead against the door, gasping. My lungs burned. I was so dizzy, so tired. The air felt thinner by the second. Why wouldn’t anyone come? Why did they all hate me this much? I sobbed, hitting the door with the side of my fist now, slower, weaker. "Please... please..." The sound of my own crying filled the room. My shoulders shook. My voice faded into quiet whimpers as I slid back down, curling near the bottom of the door. Just when my eyes were starting to close... just when the darkness inside me began to feel like home... Click. The sound was soft, but to me, it was everything. The door creaked open, light spilling in. Footsteps rushed toward me. "Lisa?" a familiar voice called. My heart stirred faintly at the sound. "Milo..." I whispered, so low I wasn’t sure if he even heard me. My lips barely moved. "Milo..." Then everything around me tilted, like the world had shifted sideways. Warm arms caught me before I hit the floor. His voice was panicking now, shaking. "Lisa...no, no, stay with me. Stay awake. Lisa!" But I couldn’t. The pain, the fear, ... it all swirled around me like a storm, pulling me under. And just like that, I let go, my body falling limp against his chest as everything faded to black.