I'm a little nervous because I've never really shared my writing on here before, and Val was the first person to read any of this novel and just... tell me what you think. I'm going to go hide under some blankets for a while.
It was cold the next time her eyes fluttered open. Colder than it had ever been in the sewers.
Was she still in the sewers? Her eyes wouldn’t focus long enough for her to work out the answer.
She couldn’t feel anything either, and there was no noise to signify where she might be. The only sense she had control of was her nose, and it smelt too earthy to the be the sewers. It smelt like dirt, and mud, and grass — not really a confidence inspiring scent.
Wherever she was at least felt better than a sewer, there was something soft underneath her that she appreciated a lot more after weeks of sleeping on concrete.
Then it hit her.
No.
She wasn’t supposed to be here. She tried to move her arms but they were too heavy to lift, the jagged lines of her hand ached painfully. She tried her legs but something held them down. She couldn’t even lift her head to see. She needed to get out. Now, before they came back.
She tried to turn onto her side, but that only hurt her more. Her ragged breathing wasn’t helping either. Deep down, she knew she needed to calm down — panicking like this wasn’t doing her any favours, but she couldn’t convince herself to stop.
“What is she doing?” A faraway voice called. It sounded manly — Evan? No. Evan wouldn’t be there after he helped her escape, either he was hidden away himself or he was dead. Somehow the latter was more likely.
“She’s going into shock,” Another voice replied, an unfamiliar voice. Whoever it was, they were muttering to themselves right by her ear, “Nellie, I need you to stay calm.” There was a flash of blonde hair above her.
“Madalina?” She whispered, though she knew her friend was well and truly dead. The stab of pain that caused her made her want to believe her friend was still alive, just for that element of hope.
