I Keep Clawing
Here is a little something for your Friday. I want you to try and figure out where this person is. Do not try to think of a place that is sci-fi. Think of a place you carry with you at all times.
I keep clawing. The sticky substance clogs the underside of my fingernails. It’s dark and there’s a strange smell I cannot identify. I close my eyes to keep out the stink and the strange substance. My feet hit something strange and it feels as though I cannot move. I struggle to kick myself free. I hit something hard and the entire place jerks. The substance wiggles and the smell intensifies. I reach out my hands in hopes of feeling for anything to grasp. I keep clawing. The room or this place, I am still not sure, is getting darker. I seem to be sinking. I fear I will never break free. I keep clawing. The smell is now more potent than before. The taste suctions itself to my tongue; my body. I hit a wall. It rattles me. I can feel the place shake. I then feel the place move. I feel myself being thrown. I reach for the wall and it is no longer within my reach. I sink further into this place. The substance wraps itself around me and the stink sets in. I keep clawing.