I blinked in the dimness, walking down a corridor with rose gold walls. Colourless lights blinked into existence the further I travelled, fading away as I passed them. I walked in a bubble of light, turning the corner as fear built up in the pit of my stomach.
I had been here before.
I had failed this before.
Dread turned the taste in my mouth to ash, and yet I hurried down the path, splitting into a run as I slowly remembered.
She was in there. And she didn’t have time.
I ran and fell to my knees mid-stride beside the golden box. It was big, bigger than a person, wardrobe size. The metal chest had golden symbols running down in strips along the border of the box lid, the base. I fumbled with the lock, desperate to open it.
She was in there.
My fingers reached up to my hair, pulling out two red coloured bobby pins I somehow knew were there. I opened the lock, watching it swing open off the latch. My fear only rose.
That was too easy. They wanted me to open it.
Another chest lay before me, the golden symbols shifting like an itchy rash into words. Always different failures, and yet they bit into me all the same. Every time I hadn’t talked to someone who needed me, every time I avoided work that needed to be done. Every time I failed someone in one way or another was written on this chest. They mocked me, daring me to defy what I saw. To lie to the truth stained on the chest.
I glanced up at the sandglass timer set into the wall, her oxygen running away with the white sand. A key appeared beside me and I grasped the handle, knowing the sense of uselessness was mine, but from long ago. The past was written here. I fitted the lock in the keyhole and twisted it, watching the lid swing open silently to reveal another chest.
The writing seemed to drip off the chest, as though the gold was being heated from beneath. This was the test. They spoke of times I had hurt someone. It remembered the times I had rejected someone, when I had ignored them. When I had thrown a punch I could not control. When my anger slipped free and went on a war path, jagged lines of heat and pain. Their pain. The key was infused into the chest beside the lock, forcing me to dig my fingers into the burning gold and try to pull it out. It burned through my flesh, tears streaming down my face as I struggled. I would not let go. I would not stop.
Sarina was in the chest. Sarina was locked inside. I could almost hear her voice through the chests, her gentle breath as she breathed in and out. In and out.
I pulled the golden key out, ignoring the pain as it sizzled in my palm. I fitted it into the lock and twisted, turning away as it swung open to reveal her.
I looked up hopefully at the hourglass timer, seeing the sand had settled long ago. Tears fell unhindered as I ran my fingers down her still face, down her nose, lips to her chin. Her curls fell around her face like a halo, her last laugh etched into her face.
I looked away, sobs coating my insides until they burned. I ran my hands through my hair, curling my hands around chunks, gasping as I ripped it out, attempting to block the pain refusing to recede.
I stood, walking unsteadily away, gripping the wall as I dragged myself from her tomb, knowing I would try again soon enough.
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