Little Things (Second Chances 1)

“Layla, can you hear me?”

I tap her face and rest my head on her chest. Oh, thank God, she’s breathing.

Shaking her body gently, I try desperately to wake her up. Tears spill down my face and onto her unconscious body.

“Layla, please wake up. Please, Layla. Listen to my voice. Wake up!”

A few minutes later, she murmurs as her body stirs awake and I let out a sigh of relief. I cradle her head into my chest and kiss the top of her head.

She whispers, “Raya?”

“Yes, yes! I’m here!”

Her panicked voice echoes, “What happened? Where are we?”

I help her sit up, “We’re in the cellar. Derrick brought us here.”

“Why?”

I bow my head, “Because he’s punishing me.”

She gasps, “Raya, what did you do?”

“Doesn’t matter. Come on, we need to find a way out. I was looking for the wall, before I tripped over you.”

I stand up slowly and pull Layla up beside me.

I grab hold of her, trying to keep her steady. “Hold on to me. Don’t let go. This room is pitch black and I don’t want to lose you.”

She grips onto my hand, “I won’t let go.”

“Okay, I’m going to slowly walk forward. Place your other hand on my right shoulder and follow me.”

She places her hand on my shoulder and follows my direction. I slowly reach out my arms in the open space, praying I touch a wall in front of me.

Layla whispers, “Raya, I don’t like this. I can’t see anything.”

“Layla, just relax. There’s no point in getting all worked up. I’m trying to find the wall and then we can work from there, okay?”

I hear a breath escape from her mouth as she sighs, “Yes, okay.”

We continue to walk a few steps at a time until we finally reach the wall.

Layla exclaims, “Oh, thank God!”

I pat the hard wall, trying to feel for a light switch or something. My hands glide against the wall and I come up empty.

“Fuck! I can’t feel anything. Layla, try to find a switch or doorway, anything.”

As Layla and I inspect the hard, smooth wall, a deep chuckle echoes from across the room.

We both spin around and Layla questions, “Did you hear that?”

I grab on to Layla’s hand, “I was hoping it was just me who heard it.”

Layla’s hand trembles in mine. Or am I the one trembling? I can’t really tell.

Another low and malicious chuckle sounds off, but this time, the origin is much closer.