𝐆𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐬 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 [𝟏𝟖+] ✔

21

When I was younger, I always thought that I'd grow up and have my own family, to live side-by-side with Ains so our kids could play with each other. She wanted to adopt older children whether she had a partner or not, to give them a good shot at life. We made plans when we were drunk. We talked about the careers we wanted, Ains a vet, and myself in the field of social work.

We never wanted to get by from our parents' wealth, we wanted our own. Having money doesn't mean happiness, in my opinion, love does.

I wanted to buy my own car with my own money. To get a mortgage on a house that I could afford with my own wages. I wanted to raise a family without any help from the millions of pounds that sit in my savers account.

I want those plans back, to get a chance to live them. It kills me that I never will.

Money doesn't really matter now, none of those things do.

The world coming to a near end has stopped our plans, encasing us in an expiring prison with no hope for a future. In the beginning, I was more just shocked at what was happening, but now, in my current situation, I have the chance to think with the remaining minutes I have left of my life.

The shower walls feel like they are closing in around me, the small space shrinking every second that passes, and all I can do is attempt to control my dizzying breaths, failing miserably.

I always said that if and when I died, I wanted it to be sudden, for me to have no knowledge of it before I'm wiped off the earth, but this... this way is just cruel.

"Oh my God! Someone, please help me! Mum! Dad! Someone!" My voice breaks at the last part. "Please," I cry, the side of my face against the glass as I try not to panic, not to freak out.

I'm not afraid of small spaces or even slightly claustrophobic, but I've never felt so trapped, like the glass cage is shrinking around me, and I can't breathe with how suffocated I feel.

Is this what it feels like to be buried alive? To know what's coming?

I scream, a loud enough wail to hurt my vocal cords as I slap and kick against the door, shouting for my dad, my mum, Eric, anyone.

My hand freezes against the glass as something dawns on me.

Something that would make sense.

Am I in the neurock?

If I am, then I'll be fine, right?

It does make sense, definitely possible that I am. Eric and I made some sort of progress, but in reality, would that really happen?

Wait...

When did I put it on?

I feel my face contorting with different emotions as a sob is ripped from my chest, palm sliding down the glass as I turn my body, resting my forehead against it.

I didn't put the neurock on. This is real.

The freezing water has risen to my hips now, legs going numb, muscles aching as my body shakes from both fear and the horrific coldness.

If the system has malfunctioned, no one will get through any of my doors.

No one can save me.

I remember Dad talking about a breach in the system, is this what he means?

Is someone trying to kill me?

Am I going to die?

No. I'm not ready, not yet.

The whistling increases to a deafening sound, and I feel excruciating pain as the showerhead blows off and hits the side of my head, knocking me into the tiles. Warm blood trickles down my face instantly, pouring into my eyes, my vision blurring until I wipe away the crimson. I think the shock has me trying to ignore the agony, attempting to push my panic to the back of my mind while I figure out a means of escape.