Panic crept up to me,
Filling my mind with images of them pulling out my body,
Festered and decaying.
Images of slow starvation. Of disease and disintegrated skin.
My breath faltered,
I gasped for air but it got caught in my throat,
Hot and humid,
The cloying stench of mold.
I could feel my heart in my head,
Rushing through my ears,
Every beat ripping my chest open,
Like the pressure would burst my veins.
Reason fled.
Rationality ran.
The walls closed in on my mind,
The water rushed up and choked my hope,
Impenetrable dark, weighing on my shoulders,
Pulling me down. Suffocating me.
Filling my mouth,
My nose,
My mind.
The moss beneath my hands crawled up my skin,
Images of drowning in insects flew through my brain.
Crawling in to my mouth,
The sockets of my eyes.
I screamed.
I screamed and I screamed,
My voice broke and still I screamed,
Silent peals of anguish,
The sound rough and course, grating against my throat.
Ripping apart the silence.
Frantically I tried to scramble up the rough stones.
Shredding my fingers,
My hands were covered in blood and grime.
Panic faded into Pain.
Pain to numbness.
I retreated into my mind.
Once I got stuck in a well, about one meter across and five deep. thigh deep water and mold up the sides. I was sure I was going to die there. This is what I felt.