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Description
I felt myself gasping for air, struggling to get just a small breath into my weak body. It was dark, it was lonely, and it was very cramped, but I had no idea where I was. All I knew was that it was like I was underwater, and my lungs were about to fail me. Once I flailed my arms towards the sky, or where sky would be, to see if I was, in actuality, underwater after all. I assume I ended up just looking like a fool to any critters that were watching me in my tiny cell.
Time and time again I tried finding a way out. I would force myself to stand, my legs trembling beneath me, and quickly enough, fall against the nearest wall, which was never very far. I could feel cool stone in one direction, and rough wood in the other. If not for the difference between materials, I would never know which way I was facing. But did it really matter anyway?
I tried leaving again. I took another deep breath, feeling like that giant intake of air only contained the tiniest speck of oxygen for my body to feed on. I couldn’t remember very well, but the last time I checked, I had my left hand along the stone wall. I don’t remember where that path led me, but if it was freedom, I surely wouldn’t still be here. Unwilling to waste precious time and energy, I placed my left hand onto the wooden boards. Immediately I was gifted with a splintered hand, the tiny pieces digging through my flesh and stinging each nerve intensely. It was these little wounds that hurt the most; the only pain that could match those was the pain of suffocation that I knew so well.
I was suddenly stopped in my tracks, feeling a tug against my body. I turned around, as if I’d be able to see what inhibited me in the complete darkness. I quickly realized that there were chains around my wrists, the thick links clanking in time with my movements. I don’t know how I didn’t hear these or even feel them before. I must have, but I suppose that’s where my memory kept failing me. I wanted out so badly that I already imagined freedom, perhaps a bit too vividly.
I took the chain in my hands and followed it back to my origin, where the chain was strongly fastened to the floor. There, I noticed something that I was nearly positive I had never taken note of before. As I felt along the mossy floor where the metal met the ground, I felt a small rectangular pack made of thin cardboard with a scratchy bit on the end. The material was almost foreign to my hands, but after unfolding the pack, I knew what it was.
A single match remained. That had to be it, a match. I snapped the match out of the box and traced my fingertips along the smooth shaft, the wood so much cleaner and perfected than the one wall of the dreary cavern. The shaft thickened and became rough and scratchy, rounding off at the tip. Making sure the matchstick never left my hand, I flipped over the cardboard that was in my other hand so the rough strip faced me. I lined the head of the match to the striker, pressed them together, and took another strangled breath. Half a second later, there was light for what seemed like the first time in my life.
I never noticed how the light emitting from the flames had stung my eyes, nor did I take a look around the room. I suppose that any person would be curious as to where either tunnel went, if they went anywhere at all. There were many questions that could be answered by sight, but my eyes never left those colourful, burning tongues. The first think that came to mind was how the fire was burning so easily, so brightly, when I could barely breathe down here.
The fire was greedy, and that was all. It was taking all of the oxygen out of the room as it ate its way down the finished wood of the matchstick. I wanted to be that fire, consuming all I could, spreading so far and able to destroy all. A certain passion overcame me, and so dearly I needed to be free. I needed to finally be able to breathe again.
Lowering my hand, I let the fire catch onto the moss beneath me. Soon enough it circled around me, and caught onto the little bits of clothing I wore. The heat stung, but it was soothing, an embrace of something entirely phenomenal and godly. The flames touched my skin and singed the flesh, bringing a frightening chill through the intense heat, and seconds later I was up to my head in burning glory.
Finally a part of the bright majesty, I opened my mouth and prepared to take just one more deep breath, something to keep me from simply fading away. The pain was sending mixed messages to my brain, and I knew I was about to faint. I inhaled…but there was nothing. There was still the same pain of suffocation, of having nothing to take in, except now there really was nothing left for me. I wanted to be a part of the fire, but I had failed. I remained only human, fooled by the beauty of the flames.
The fire flickered in different directions, grabbing the last few particles the room had to offer. Just as quickly as it had come, the fire all around me died out. It came to feed, and now it was content enough to move on.
With nothing left to keep me going, my lungs collapsed as I swayed and toppled onto the dirt floor.

Description
I felt myself gasping for air, struggling to get just a small breath into my weak body. It was dark, it was lonely, and it was very cramped, but I had no idea where I was. All I knew was that it was like I was underwater, and my lungs were about to fail me. Once I flailed my arms towards the sky, or where sky would be, to see if I was, in actuality, underwater after all. I assume I ended up just looking like a fool to any critters that were watching me in my tiny cell.
Time and time again I tried finding a way out. I would force myself to stand, my legs trembling beneath me, and quickly enough, fall against the nearest wall, which was never very far. I could feel cool stone in one direction, and rough wood in the other. If not for the difference between materials, I would never know which way I was facing. But did it really matter anyway?
I tried leaving again. I took another deep breath, feeling like that giant intake of air only contained the tiniest speck of oxygen for my body to feed on. I couldn’t remember very well, but the last time I checked, I had my left hand along the stone wall. I don’t remember where that path led me, but if it was freedom, I surely wouldn’t still be here. Unwilling to waste precious time and energy, I placed my left hand onto the wooden boards. Immediately I was gifted with a splintered hand, the tiny pieces digging through my flesh and stinging each nerve intensely. It was these little wounds that hurt the most; the only pain that could match those was the pain of suffocation that I knew so well.
I was suddenly stopped in my tracks, feeling a tug against my body. I turned around, as if I’d be able to see what inhibited me in the complete darkness. I quickly realized that there were chains around my wrists, the thick links clanking in time with my movements. I don’t know how I didn’t hear these or even feel them before. I must have, but I suppose that’s where my memory kept failing me. I wanted out so badly that I already imagined freedom, perhaps a bit too vividly.
I took the chain in my hands and followed it back to my origin, where the chain was strongly fastened to the floor. There, I noticed something that I was nearly positive I had never taken note of before. As I felt along the mossy floor where the metal met the ground, I felt a small rectangular pack made of thin cardboard with a scratchy bit on the end. The material was almost foreign to my hands, but after unfolding the pack, I knew what it was.
A single match remained. That had to be it, a match. I snapped the match out of the box and traced my fingertips along the smooth shaft, the wood so much cleaner and perfected than the one wall of the dreary cavern. The shaft thickened and became rough and scratchy, rounding off at the tip. Making sure the matchstick never left my hand, I flipped over the cardboard that was in my other hand so the rough strip faced me. I lined the head of the match to the striker, pressed them together, and took another strangled breath. Half a second later, there was light for what seemed like the first time in my life.
I never noticed how the light emitting from the flames had stung my eyes, nor did I take a look around the room. I suppose that any person would be curious as to where either tunnel went, if they went anywhere at all. There were many questions that could be answered by sight, but my eyes never left those colourful, burning tongues. The first think that came to mind was how the fire was burning so easily, so brightly, when I could barely breathe down here.
The fire was greedy, and that was all. It was taking all of the oxygen out of the room as it ate its way down the finished wood of the matchstick. I wanted to be that fire, consuming all I could, spreading so far and able to destroy all. A certain passion overcame me, and so dearly I needed to be free. I needed to finally be able to breathe again.
Lowering my hand, I let the fire catch onto the moss beneath me. Soon enough it circled around me, and caught onto the little bits of clothing I wore. The heat stung, but it was soothing, an embrace of something entirely phenomenal and godly. The flames touched my skin and singed the flesh, bringing a frightening chill through the intense heat, and seconds later I was up to my head in burning glory.
Finally a part of the bright majesty, I opened my mouth and prepared to take just one more deep breath, something to keep me from simply fading away. The pain was sending mixed messages to my brain, and I knew I was about to faint. I inhaled…but there was nothing. There was still the same pain of suffocation, of having nothing to take in, except now there really was nothing left for me. I wanted to be a part of the fire, but I had failed. I remained only human, fooled by the beauty of the flames.
The fire flickered in different directions, grabbing the last few particles the room had to offer. Just as quickly as it had come, the fire all around me died out. It came to feed, and now it was content enough to move on.
With nothing left to keep me going, my lungs collapsed as I swayed and toppled onto the dirt floor.