-Sloane Pierce:
My hearing came back in pieces, as if someone were turning a radio dial and letting different stations bleed through for a second at a time. First there was the thunk of my own breath, too loud in my ears, jagged and panicked. Then distant thuds — boots on wood, a soft scrape — sounds that told me I was not alone but gave me no mercy. Light didn't come. Darkness pressed against my eyelids so hard I felt the shape of it.
When the blindfold finally loosened against my skin I thought the brightness would make me scream. Instead it made my stomach flip. Something rough had been tied across my face — heavy cloth, damp at the edges — and when it slid up the ache behind my eyes became an ocean of white. I blearily blinked, willed the shapes into focus, and the room rearranged itself in my head like someone shoving furniture into a smaller space.
