Chapter 135: Helpless
It’s dark—an endless, swallowing void. The darkness isn’t just around me; it’s alive, coiling and writhing, slithering over my skin and pulling me deeper, dragging me down into its suffocating depths. It’s like sinking into thick, inky water, every inch of movement slower than the last, my limbs growing heavier, my strength ebbing with each attempt to pull myself free. The darkness seems to feed off my desperation, tightening its grip, whispering threats in my ear, promises of oblivion.
Ahead, there’s a single point of light—a distant star flickering faintly, barely piercing through the pitch-black surrounding me. My heart seizes, and an ache flares in my chest. That light, so small and fragile, is the only thing holding back the vast emptiness that stretches around me. I reach for it, clawing and scrabbling through the darkness, my fingers stretching desperately toward the one thing that keeps me from giving in to the abyss. I have to reach it. I have to touch it.
But the more I struggle, the further it drifts away, as if mocking me, taunting me with its unattainable warmth. The harder I fight, the faster it recedes. Panic grips me, raw and unrelenting, as I realize that every ounce of effort only drags me deeper, farther from that glimmer of hope. My breaths come out ragged, shallow; the weight on my chest tightens, pressing down until I feel like I’m being crushed from the inside.
The darkness twists around me, insidious and mocking, and I hear whispers within it—taunts of failure, of helplessness. Voices of the past, of every doubt, every fear. They hiss my name, each syllable dripping with malice, reminding me that I’ve already lost so much, that no amount of reaching will ever bring the light back to me.
My hands shake, my fingers curl into empty fists, nails digging into my palms as I push harder, pulling against the void with everything I have left. But it’s endless. No matter how hard I reach, the light remains just out of grasp, slipping further and further away. The hope, the warmth, the only sense of life—fading, leaving me to drown in this choking, endless dark.
The darkness wins, swallowing me whole as it pulls me down, deeper and deeper until there’s nothing—only cold, crushing silence. I wake with a gasp, bolting upright, my chest heaving as I gulp in air, struggling to shake the lingering grip of the nightmare. My skin is damp, drenched in cold sweat, my heart pounding like a war drum in my chest. The echoes of the darkness still cling to me, shadows hovering just beyond sight, taunting me even here.
I glance around the darkened room, but the familiar shapes do nothing to ease the tightness in my chest. The quiet feels too still, too empty. My hand trembles as I wipe the sweat from my brow, trying to ground myself, but the fear clings like a second skin, raw and unshakable. I know I won’t be finding sleep again tonight—not after that.
I miss him so much, it’s destroying me—not just in some figurative way, but truly tearing me apart from the inside out. Somehow, I know Noelle is alive; it’s a certainty buried deep in my soul, an instinct that keeps me breathing, keeps me going. If he were gone... I would feel it. Wouldn’t I? But then, the doubts creep in, twisting through my mind like shadows. Dark thoughts whisper that I’m deluding myself, that I’m clinging to a dream too fragile to bear reality.