“PAPA!!!” Celeste opened her eyes.
Everything was dark. The smell of rot and decay suffused her nose.
She could not breathe.
She could not move.
It’s as if she was trapped, but trapped in what exactly?
“AHHHH!” Her eyes turned luminescent; she gave a bestial roar and threw out a punch.
Bam! Blood and flesh ruptured out.
Bam! She threw another punch and saw a faint light peeking out from above.
Bam! She threw out one last punch before jumping up towards the light.
Boom! She finally emerged.
“Wake up,” she heard the familiar voice ring inside her heart again.
Slapping her two cheeks, she shook her head, discarding all semblance of haziness that tugged her towards la-la-land.
Skies veiled in red curtains, winds as cold as the perpetuity, soil as pallid as the ashes in a pyre, and then the seas, weeping for the untold tales that were lost amidst the waves.
“Papa,” she muttered and looked down.