Below

It was so cold. She hugged her legs close to her, trying to warm herself. How much time had past now—hours, days years? This water was like ice.

Stop that.

The steady dripping of water continued, as a clock counting down in the darkness.

Stop.

Silence reigned absolute. A breath escaped her lips. If only she could see in the darkness. Shivering, she closed her eyes, remembering those last moments before she fell--remembering her mother’s final moments. The anger began to build.

A slow rumbling began all about her, raining small rocks atop her. She screamed.

* * *

The water danced before her in her mind’s eye, making strange shapes in the dark. This ritual helped her mind to focus on what she wanted—on the sole goal she had ever pursued.

Standing, the sound of water spilling off her cloths echoed about her in her tight surroundings. She stepped forward, feeling the wall. The stone was cold as she reached up to grasp hold of the slimy rock. Pushing herself up, she tried to place her feet vertically on the wall.

The water rose to meet her as she fell back, pain shooting through her hands and arms. Her head hit something hard and all went black.

* * *

Red swam about her in the water. Blinking, water dripped from her eyelashes. She tried to lift herself up, but pain shot up her arms from her fingers. Bringing her hand slowly out of the water, it dripped steady, never stopping. Oh Lord, she wished she could see in this darkness. She placed once finger lightly to her lips, tasting the saltiness. But this was spring water—

Pressing down the finger against her lips, the substance gushed forth, and pain shot up her arm and into her heart. She let her tongue run gently over the top of her finger, the saltiness seeping into her mouth. She no longer had nails.

As she sank back into the water, a few wet strands of hair fell across her face. She was too weak to move, and her head still throbbed in pain. The water was like a blanket, the pain taking precedence over the cold. Slowly, she closed her eyes and began to numb herself to the pain.

* * *

The sound of construction rang above her head. She woke, listening, hoping. She could hear the voice of men shouting. An electric saw buzzed, hammers pounded.

She was startled, though, by her own voice crying out for help. It sounded old and long unused. She tried once more. It was too soft, and would never carry, she knew, yet she kept on trying in hopes someone might hear. Someone, anyone—no one. She sank back, weeping.

* * *

They would all pay. Her eyes shot open. Images of the pain in her life flashed in her mind’s eye. All would suffer as she had. She laughed at the simplicity of the idea. Oh yes, she would reach many people as she had always wished, and those she reached would never forget her. As she reached this, she began to sink under the water, never ending her breathing pattern. No, no one would forget the life of Sadako.