The Withering

00 | voices underwater

Voices clashed in the chamber, a cacophony of desperation that echoed through the space like a relentless tempest. Each voice bore its own distinct cadence and timbre, weaving together into a discordant harmony that shredded at her delicate calm, reminiscent of razor-sharp glass fragments cascading down upon her grip on reality. Their unyielding torment gnawed at her thoughts, pushing her to the edge of despair. Seeking solace, Sarah plunged her head beneath the soothing chill of the bathwater, yearning for a moment of tranquility amidst the chaos.

The chaotic whispers that once plagued her mind fell silent, granting Sarah a fleeting sense of tranquility. As she basked in the rare moment of peace, a sudden rush of icy water surged into her mouth, invading her lungs with a suffocating grip. It clawed at her windpipe mercilessly, dragging her towards the dark embrace of oblivion, a fate she vehemently refused to embrace just yet.

Gasping for air, she surfaced in a whirlpool of frigid water that coiled around her like icy serpents. The oppressive weight of the liquid abyss bore down on her, compelling her to battle against the numbing chill. Her fists clenched, and her legs shook uncontrollably, every sinew in her body taut as if preparing to bolt from the relentless aquatic torment. Amidst the darkness, spectral whispers reverberated in the recesses of her mind, tethering her to the profound depths of her self-imposed suffering. Struggling fiercely against the suffocating grip and searing agony, she finally burst out of the bathtub, crashing onto the hard floor with a resounding thud. A tremor ran through her limp nerve endings as she lay there, gathering remnants of strength before rising unsteadily to wrap herself in a cocoon of warmth with a towel.

Sarah's familiar torment unfolded once again, a haunting presence within her own skin that had long plagued her. The relentless whispers, growing bolder with each passing day, coerced her towards beliefs she vehemently rejected. Trapped in silence, she bore the weight of this internal struggle, its threat to her very existence escalating by the hour.

Quivering, she sought solace in her bedroom sanctuary. The chill in the air prickled her skin, raising tiny goosebumps. Retrieving a small container from the bedside drawer, she extracted two pale tablets - her temporary reprieve from the cacophony within. As the clock's hands marched forward, marking Ayaan's impending return in two short hours, Sarah clung to the hope that numbing the voices would allow them to salvage their dinner date.

The whispers crept back into her consciousness, like tiny spiders weaving delicate threads in the corners of her mind. With a trembling hand, she reached for the bottle of pills, its plastic surface cool against her skin. Her fingers fumbled, struggling to open the childproof cap as if it were guarding secrets within. Finally, with a determined twist, the lid surrendered, revealing the array of colorful tablets inside. She hesitated for a moment, studying them intently before hastily tipping a couple into her palm. Bringing them to her lips, she could almost taste their bitterness before swallowing them down with a gulp of water that felt icy against her parched throat. As the pills slid down, she clenched her jaw tight, as if sealing off both the physical and mental realms simultaneously.

***

Author's Note: Thanks so much for checking out The Withering! I hope you enjoy the story.

What did you think of the prologue? Intense or mild? 

Well, we're just getting started here so wait till I introduce these characters properly. They're definitely not so easy to understand or relate to. But I guess, that's the fun here.