Cell #2

[post deleted by owner]

"... And I wonder how much longer..."

The mutt who could only often find it in herself to completely finish a sentence speaks the words on her mind, half in drousy slurs and half in conscious yawns. She brings her eyelids together and steadily leans back against clean and carpeted floor, fingers entertwining above her stomach while the cool yet warm embrace soothing her mind, clearing it. Waiting was always a lonesome game, always a game that made her wish to be anywhere other than trapped within the walls of her temporary abode. It makes her think of places where she'd rather be, lures the kiss of a dream-like mist and uses it as an excuse to carry her over to a realm imagined, sinking her deep below its watery surface and tempting her eyes to reawaken.

'This is a taste of rapture. That sort of death severely serene one wishes to meet when they consider their last moments. Just before the pain overcomes the beauty and consumes the last of their being.'

Her senses kick back in at gradual increase, body noticing its fetal position and unfurling patiently, mind ignoring the absence of her tail, her ears, and her clothing. The sound and touch of water surrounding her instead is acknowledged, and her eyelids unlatch themselves, granting her a view of deep blue ocean. The critters see her heavy eyes slowly start to focus and welcome her like one of their own, the sand urges her falling feet to stand for themselves, her lungs inhale without a single choke, and she wonders why it is all possible. She's able to touch the deepest floor no man has ever touched, she's able to feel the friendliness of the critters lighting up the darkness like neon lights, and she's able to breathe no oxygen man has even breathed. But how was it all happening? Water wasn't always this comfortable, not once has she been so alone with no threatening eyes on her, yet there she was.

The sea creatures disperse to leave her with another. The silhouette of their body seemingly male and approaching her, but as the creatures left everything faded to black, and became unclear. Hands cold and unfriendly cupping her cheeks, rubbing her eyes, burning out the orbs in her head and replacing them with glowing, acid-like orbs. Her screams mumuffled by the water and blood washed from her face. She falls to her hands and knees in pain and fear, lost from the loss of her actual vision and feeling through the sand. Laughter erupts in the distance, startling her further, drawing nearer. She whimpers and shudders. Her eyes hurt. They stung. They ached. And they weren't even there. But beyond the black she saw came blurred words in both sight and sound. Words she grew too weak to process.

'This was a taste of rapture. That sort of death severely serene one wished to meet when they considered their last moments. Just before the pain overcame the beauty and consumed the last of their being.'

***

Coughing and gagging officially woke the mutt. She rolled over on her side and beat at her chest to make sure nothing clogged her airway, but she figured she was choking on her own drool again. Looking around the room, she saw no signs of change so she didn't feel the need to get up right away. A prompt yawn and a stretch emphasizing this. The mutt relaxes her body into the remaining body heat in the plush of the floor and winces at the sudden pain in her tail from sleeping on it.

"I don't know why I always do this to myself."

She sighs, soflty shaking her head and pushing off of the ground with a grunt. Dreams like that she never understood. Maybe her subconscious was trying to tell her to stop eating before going to sleep. Maybe it was just trying to send her a message in general. Whatever the case, she wasn't too concerned. These dreams were the norm. They occured so often she started to become numb to them. She thinks, from time to time, she'll be able to comfortably share them one day, but she's only been here for a little while. No one really knows her yet, and she doesn't really know anyone. That, ans she's not very keen when it comes to approaching people. She just waits in her cell for someone to show interest and rarely ever steps out, much to her own displeasure.