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Drip

It was cold.

Darkness surrounded her, and the smell of dampness filled her lungs. Close to her head, she heard the ping of water falling from above her, landing in a puddle on the concrete, over and over and over again. Dripping, constantly, cutting into her thoughts, eating through her mind. It needed to stop.

But there was no way to make it stop, and as long as she was down here in the damp, dark, cold, she wouldn’t be able to do anything to help herself.

How long had she been down here? It seemed like forever. Her stomach felt like it was eating itself, but then, she didn’t really have stomach pains anymore because she was so used to being hungry.

She tried to stretch her back, but she couldn’t because of the restraints. Why they thought binding her hands around her ankles and tying her ankles together would stop her from using her abilities, she didn’t know, but she could still use them.

She could still pick them up and throw them across the room.

She could still blow out the glas
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