It’s awfully quiet.
Why are my eyes shut? My eyelids flutter, but there’s dust on them, so I don’t open them. Dust? I cough. What is that on my chest? I want to turn left and right, and I struggle to do so. I can’t move. Get this thing off my chest!
In my head, I scream, but nothing audible comes out of my mouth. Other people’s voices drift in.
First like whispers, but soon I hear sirens over the people, who appear to be shouting above me. I blink open my eyes, and when the dust gets in, I close them again and roll them until the tears coat my eyes.
Now would be a good time to cry. Make tear production useful for once, but of course, when I need to cry to clean my eyes, I can’t.
I’m trapped. Why am I trapped? What happened?
I was in my hair salon, grabbing the supplies and…and. OMG. Connor.
“Connor,” I whisper, but I can barely hear myself speaking. I try again, but swallow the dirt in my mouth. “Connor.” Useless.
The voices become louder. Someone above me is shouting. What are they saying? I’m trying to understand them, but I can’t hear well.
An explosion. There was an explosion. This is why my ears can’t adjust and why there’s a ton of debris around me. Am I trapped under the rubble? I blink open my eyes and force myself to focus…on broken gray concrete and metal wiring above my head.
Iamtrapped.
Oh my God. I’m trapped. I’m going to die. I can’t breathe. Fuck, I can’t breathe. Panic seizes my chest, and I struggle to get up but can’t, and to breathe but can’t, so I try screaming at the top of my lungs.
“Someone is under here!” a man says from above.
Yes! They must’ve heard me or seen me with the light. More flashlights flicker in.
I squint my eyes and call out again, my voice stronger than before. Panic is subsiding. I will get rescued. I hope Connor is okay. I hope Connor is alive. Declan will be devastated if something happened to his brother. Because of me.
And my stupid bridal shower.
And my stupid hair.
My stupid freedom. My stupid in general. God, I am stupid. My ex was right.
Damn it, Dina.
Bright light shines over my eyes. “I see someone!” a woman shouts.
I recognize the voice. Tris? “Tris!” I croak out. It doesn’t have the volume I hoped for, but it’s something. “Tris!” I shout. This time it’s louder. “Triiiiis! I’m down here!”
“Dina, I hear you! We’re coming. Hang in there.”
“There are two of us under here.”
No answer.
“Tris? I said there are two of us under here.”
No answer. She might’ve moved away.
I hear scraping above me. The hole through which the light shone widens. I think they’re digging. This takes a while, though it might just feel like it to me, but finally, I see Tris’s face, and two firefighters in hard hats poke their heads inside the hole they dug. One of the men reaches for me, but I can’t move yet.
“There was a man with me,” I say.
Tris is shaking her head. There’s fear in her eyes.
“Did he die?” I ask.
