Shadows shrouded her until her limbs were for her to imagine. Corner to corner, murk populated her vision. Nothingness, the sole thing to see.

Only she heard her own bated breaths. The thumps breaking her ribs. The voice of her mater, low-lying merging with... something sinister.

Mom's dead. The onslaught reminder to keep insanity at bay.

This isn't real. None of this is.

"I have a terrible voice," murmured from the left. No, she swung her head to the other shoulder. The right? Has to be.

"Sadie," whispered from the forefront. Its presence, nearer. Motivation for her to scoot farther til—thump—her spine met the unforgiving, sturdy door.

Creeak dawned against the timbered ground, a subtle step delivered with slowness. Deliberate slowness to toy with its food, savor the blind fear.

Now, labored wet huffs bounded her space, squishing her knees, a feeble shield, to her throbbing chest. Puffs akin to lungs being dragged through a pit of sludge moistened her face.

Vocal chords yenned to gag, to screech a blood-curling scream, fumble out a noise, a sob. Anything to awaken the deadbeat stars and be her light, be her savior, in this voided nightmare.

But God wasn't listening.

"Sadie..." Now your voice filled her ears. But it held unnatural timbre of a wild animal—of inexplicable entity. All the more reason to believe it isn't you. It kept her grounded. Just on the brink of it.

Soothing melodies embodying stability and steadiness—only your serene mouth could do.

"Sadie..." guttural growls rang, "don't you miss mommy?"

Once it shrieked...

Instinct took over.

There, tears blurred the first sparks of light. Then, she saw you, her girl.

Home.

"Sadi—" Your breath fled upon the forceful impact of Sadie's bulldozing body. She dug a grave on your back, clamped the wrinkly fibers, mined herself to your neck, and then—a cry.

"Godimsosorry, I swear I was trying to get the door ope—"

Creaak from behind. Time froze.

A slow turn to the dark void ensued her wavering, "Can you... close the door?"