Lydia


    Iy on the hard mattress, staring at the ceiling. Sleep was impossible. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the courtroom, the judge, and the cold, unforgiving walls of this prison closing in around me.


    Tomorrow was my verdict. And I am nervous as hell.


    I turned on my side, pulling the thin, scratchy nket up to my chin. Maybe if I forced myself to rest, the morning woulde faster. My hands went to my belly as I felt my babies move around, too.


    Even though it came under weird circumstances, I was more than happy to be pregnant. My babies’ presence made me feel less alone, and I couldn’t wait to kiss and hold my twins.


    I took a deep breath and closed my eyes with those thoughts, hoping they’d put me to sleep and give me good dreams.


    But then-


    Loud shouting came through the cell, and I could hear the sounds of crashing, yelling, and cursing. I flinched, my eyes snapping open as the noise grew louder. Someone screamed. Something mmed against the metal bars.


    I pushed myself up, looking toward themotion.


    Mary.


    Of course, it was Mary.


    She was in the middle of the cell, her wild hair flying as she lunged at another woman-a new inmate I didn’t know much


    about.


    “You think you can talk to me like that?” Mary spat, grabbing the woman’s shirt. “You little-”


    The woman shoved her back. Hard. Mary stumbled, hitting the bars with a loud ng.


    “You crazy b*tch!” the woman snapped.


    Mary didn’t even hesitate. Sheunched herself forward, her fists swinging wildly. The other inmates backed up, shouting andughing.


    “Fight! Fight! Fight!”


    I sighed, pressing my fingers against my temple.


    This was every night with Mary. The yelling. The fighting. The constant need to prove she was the toughest one in here.


    I backed up toward my bed, keeping my distance. Thest thing I needed was to get caught up in this mess the night before my verdict.


    The guards arrived within minutes.


    “Back off!” one of them shouted, pulling Mary away from the other woman. She was still thrashing, trying to break free.


    “She started it!” Mary yelled, kicking at the air. “That b*tch started it!”


    The other woman didn’t even argue. She just wiped the blood from her lip and red.


    The guards didn’t care who started it. They never did.


    “You’re both out,” one of them said.


    Mary cursed, struggling as they dragged her out of the cell. The other woman followed, muttering under her breath.


    The door mmed shut.


    Silence.


    For the first time in months, real silence.


    I exhaled, slowly sinking onto my mattress. No more Mary. No more shouting. No more smoke filling the tiny cell at night.


    Just me.


    Alone.


    And for the first time, I didn’t mind it.


    Iy back down, pulling the nket up again. The room felt emptier now, quieter. It was strange, but I weed it.


    Maybe now, I could finally rest.


    Maybe now, I could close my eyes without feeling like I was suffocating.


    I took a deep breath and let myself drift.


    And it all went pitch ck.


    A cold breeze brushed against my skin as I opened my eyes, and the dull grey walls of the prison were gone. Instead, I stood in the grand hallway of Mason’s mansion. The golden chandelier above, the polished wooden floors beneath my bare feet. I was here. How did I get here?


    I turned, expecting to see prison bars, expecting the guards to rush in and drag me back, but all I saw was the familiar staircase leading up to the bedrooms. My hands trembled. This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be. Could it?


    I realized my body was moving on its own as it led me up the stairs. The house was silent, as though no one was home. But I had this deep feeling in my gut. I walked past the rooms, past Mason’s, until I reached the door at the end of the hall.


    His stepfather’s room.


    The door was slightly open. I could hear muffled sounds inside, and although I already knew what I would find, my fingers twitched as I pushed it open.


    And then I saw them. Zoe. And him.


    She was sobbing, her face wet with tears, struggling under his grip. His hands were on her as he mercilessly molested the poor minor. My gaze shifted to the gun on the table.


    My fingers wrapped around it, and then


    Bang.


    His body jerked on top of her.


    Bang.


    Zoe screamed as he copsed.


    Bang.


    Blood sttered across the bed, the floor, the walls, my body, and Zoe’s, too. My chest rose and fell in sharp gasps. My fingers felt numb. And then I realized…


    What did I just do?


    My breathing was uneven. Zoe was sobbing, pressing herself into the corner of the room. She was terrified. Of him. Of me. “Y-you killed him this time. Y-…y-you killed him, Lydia!” Zoe screamed, frightened and shivering all over as she struggled against her own skin.


    I stared down at the blood on her body, at the blood on mine, and the man lying lifeless on the bed, soaked in his own blood.


    I killed him.


    With a shaky breath, I turned to find Mason’s mother standing in the hallway. A gun in her hands. Her face was filled with pure hatred for me. Her eyes were dark, lips curled.


    “Die, bi-”


    Sometimes, dreams can be misleading, like this one. Suddenly, everything began to shift. Then it got hot, and then I jerked <ol><li></li></ol>


    *cough*


    I didn’t know how long I had been asleep, but the moment I opened my eyes, I felt it.


    The heat.


    Thick. Heavy. Suffocating.


    I shot up, coughing as my throat burned. The world looked so dark. But it wasn’t dark. Notpletely. There was an orange glowing from outside the bars. Moving from side to side.


    Soon, I finally managed to adjust my viewing, and that’s when I realized that I was surrounded by fire and smoke.


    I jumped to my feet.


    No. No, no, no.


    My hands flew to the bars, and I banged against them with all my strength. “Help!” My voice came out hoarse, barely above a whisper. I swallowed, trying again. “Help! Someone, please!”


    Nothing. The hallway looked empty, not even the guards around to offer any help.


    The shouting, the screams-they were far away,ing from the other end of the prison. I could hear chaos-metal shing, footsteps running, people crying for help.


    The fire had spread that bad.


    I spun around, searching for something-anything-that could help. The cell was empty, with nothing but a mattress and a


    steel toilet.


    I banged on the bars again, harder this time. “Somebody! Please!”


    Still nothing. I stumbled back, coughing into my hand. I needed to think. I needed to-


    A loud explosion shook the walls of the prison cell. I screamed, falling to the ground as the impact rattled through me. Somewhere outside, a pipe had burst. Water sprayed from the ceiling, but it wasn’t enough as the fire seemed to worsen instead.


    I pressed my hands to my stomach, feeling my babies’s unease. “It’s okay,” I whispered. “It’s okay, my twins. We’re okay.”


    But we weren’t.


    Another explosion. It’s louder this time. A part of the ceiling copsed down the hall. Sparks flew. More smoke rushed in.


    My vision blurred as my chest tightened. I was going to die here. My legs gave out, and I slid to the floor, my back against the bars. My head felt heavy and dizzy as my eyelids drooped. The heat was unbearable now. I wanted to keep fighting, to keep screaming.


    But my body was shutting down. My hands slipped from the bars, and I copsed onto my side.


    Thest thing I saw was the mes licking at the ceiling before everything went ck.


    When I opened my eyes again, I wasn’t in prison anymore. There was no smoke. No fire.


    Just white.


    White walls. White sheets. There was a beeping sound somewhere in the distance. I blinked slowly, trying to move, but my body felt like a leaf. My head was pounding fast, and my throat felt dry.


    Where was I?


    I tried to speak, but nothing came out. I turned my head slightly. There was a window. Dark sky. Stars. Was it night? How much time had passed?


    I closed my heavy eyes again. Allowing myself to drift back to sleep. The next time I woke up, I felt movement. Not my own.


    The room was moving. I forced my eyes open.


    A small, dim light glowed above me. The ceiling was different-not like a hospital or a prison. My senses felt heightened as the hum seemed louder than it was supposed to be.


    Then I heard voices.


    “…too weak to wake uppletely…”


    “…her body is exhausted…”


    …she might lose the babies…”


    My fingers twitched.


    Lose my babies?


    No. No, that couldn’t happen. I tried to move, to sit up, but my limbs wouldn’t cooperate. I was too tired to do anything.


    I barely had enough strength to take another breath before the darkness pulled me under again.