I’m dying.

Maybe it’s panic, maybe it’s reality.

There’s a weight on my chest, and a tightness in my lungs. It’s harder to take a deep breath, so I settle for shallow pants. I’m using up my oxygen too fast, but holding back the terror from rushing through me is difficult. It’s a tide that surges forward and recedes, over and over.

I press against the lid again, but it doesn’t budge.

I’m starting to hallucinate. Shapes and faces in the darkness, watching over me.

Things I’ll never see again: meeting Miles’ parents, watching my sister graduate high school, falling in love.

You’re already in love, idiot.

Miles’ face looms in front of me. Smirking, secretive, caring. The blue eyes fill my vision, and for the first time since I was closed in here, I cry.

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