...
The hole stretched out before her. A black tunnel, swallowing its path into the depths of darkness.
A faint breeze played with her long, wavy hair—once clean and silk-soft, now sticky with resin and soaked through with sweat. Her left leg dragged slightly from the brutal climb. Gently, she blew over the fresh blisters and swellings that her hands had paid as the price.
A sad smile crept across her lips as the tunnel’s chill greeted her. The seemingly endless void ahead was more than welcome—this was the only place she could imagine where the eyes of the others could not follow.
No matter where she went, no matter what she did, no matter whom she spoke to—they were always there. They would never dare to stand openly against her, but she heard every whispered slur, every stifled hiss, every hushed growl—every single one.
And the voices in her head did little to ease her burden.
Carefully, she set one bare foot in front of the other. After only a few steps, the darkness devoured all remaining light. She savoured the moment—vanishing from the world’s stage, unseen, unfound. Living for herself alone. For no one else.
Then she remembered why she had come.
As she pushed deeper into the suffocating black, the voices inside her mind began to stir. Some cursed her, spat vile insults, others damned her outright and braced for the end. Some screamed in mindless panic, while others fell silent, uttering not a sound—yet their unsettling presence still pressed against her skull. Only a few soothed her, whispered small comforts, tried to brace her for whatever calamity lay ahead.
Worst of all, she had no idea what that calamity would be. Neither did the voices—or at least none spoke plainly. Those who knew stayed silent, those who knew nothing shrieked the loudest. Hadn’t it always been that way?
But what did it matter to her? She would keep ignoring the voices, just as she ignored everyone else. Deeper and deeper she crept into the cool, smothering dark. Under her bare soles, the ground changed—suddenly warm, soft, a little slick, as if she were walking along a wet sandbank. Or so she imagined wet sand would feel—she had never seen the sea. And she never would.
From far ahead, she could already hear it: a deep, steady, calming thrum. A heartbeat that grew louder with each step. As she neared her destination, the voices fell silent all at once. They knew they were powerless here. Everyone was powerless here.
She closed her eyes, savouring the hush. She wanted nothing more than to lie down and never rise again.
But the heartbeat reminded her of her purpose. Lifting her head, she spoke—her voice as steady as the moment would allow.
“I am ready.”
