Chapter 39 Equally Cliché
Equally Cliché
Weightless, her hair combed by shrieking wind, Liv tumbled through darkness. The hole was big; she was in freefall with no sense of the walls. It was so damn dark she wouldn’t know they were there until she hit, and her stuttering scream trailed into nothingness.
Later, she wondered just how far she fell.
She wondered what she thought, if her life flashed before her eyes, or something else equally cliché.
The necklace tapped her chin, bumped against her chest as she somersaulted, up and down changing places in womblike darkness so quickly she felt, for a bare moment, as if she were flying.
She didn’t remember dreaming of this.
The only thing she could remember later was a burst of ecstatic fear so huge it was painless, and a single thought.
How do I know I’m not dead already?
She had always been falling, she would always fall, trapped in this darkness.
Then…
. . . a spark.