Nothing.

That's what you woke up to. Nothing but darkness. That scared you; not knowing where you were, or what you were doing there. How did you end up in that situation? You tried to remember, but the last memory you had was of the back of Adam Lambert's head, watching him while he walked back toward the stage he'd performed on, and taking a sip of your drink. Everything else was...fuzzy. It was all a blur of random lights, colors, shapes, and eventual darkness.

Darkness. A wave of panic swept through you when you finally realized you were secluded in nothing but your own worst enemy. You'd never liked the dark. Of course, everyone was scared of the dark as a little kid, but since A came to Rosewood and ruined your and the other liars' lives, it increased your fear by at least twice the amount. It caused you to become paranoid of every little sound; the tiny twitch of an autumn leaf falling gently to the ground, the soft sound of footsteps echoing on the sidewalk, the slam of a window or door.

But mostly, it was during the nighttime when you became the most fearful. It was when you couldn't see who was behind you as well, you couldn't tell what was going on, or who was where.

It made you feel blind, in a way. Like Jenna had been.

Now, being trapped in a tiny space, with barely any light, you could hardly see, and you were scared. You struggled to move your hands, to try and lift what appeared to be the lid of the crate, but you froze when you realized your hands were taped together; duct tape. The feeling only got worse when you realized you had a piece covering your mouth, too.

Cold beads of sweat. You felt them; they were cold as ice. You shivered, and felt your heart slowly start to speed up. The faster your heart rate got, the more your breathing became uneven, the more dots that appeared in front of your eyes, only caused your panic to increase. It was hard to breathe; the crate was stuffy and warm, and you felt enclosed, crowded, sweaty.

You were trapped in an enclosed space, with barely any room to breathe, and you didn't even know why.

That thought only made you more nervous, and slowly, tears started streaming down your face. You managed to let out desperate sobs, muffled by the tape covering your mouth. You were hopeful that someone, anyone, could still hear you. You balled your locked hands into fists, and brought them to the roof of the crate, banging them as loud as you could.

Bang, bang, bang.

There was no sound, no movement; nothing. No sign of hope or rescue.

You were shivering despite the heat within the crate. You'd never felt so alone, so isolated, and definitely not so terrified, in your entire life. You didn't know what time it was; days could've passed for all you knew.

Had anyone noticed your absence yet?

Were Spencer and the others desperately looking for you now, wondering what had happened to you?

Spencer.

What if you never saw her again?

The thought of never seeing the beautiful brunette again only added to your determination and fear, and after several hours of struggled attempts, the duct tape covering your mouth couldn't tighten its hold on your mouth any longer, and the tape that stuck your hands together ripped, and they both came off. You let out a long sigh, feeling slightly better. Then the cart holding your crate lurched, and the box- and you- toppled over.

The first thing that came out of your mouth was the sound of a petrified scream at the sight of a dead Garrett Reynolds, the grey-colored face inches away from yours.

The next thing you knew, you were face-to-face with several Rosewood policemen. The rest of the time spent in the tiny, enclosed crate was a blur to you, and you didn't care; you didn't want to remember. You didn't want to remember the stench of death inches away from you, or the feeling of yourself being moved by whispered, hushed voices. You didn't want to remember the feeling that you were about fall, and you couldn't see where.

Your desperate screams were echoing in your mind, however, and those couldn't be ignored. The feeling of relief when the other girls found you couldn't be ignored.

And the feeling of being in her arms. . . you'd never felt so comforted.

But the slight relief had been replaced by the dreaded memories you so wanted to forget. There was a numbness inside of you; inside of your heart. You froze over, letting out gasps, trying to breathe. She was beside you in a second, crouched down next to you, rubbing your back gently, and whispering comforting words in your ear.

"It'll be okay," she'd kept whispering. Eventually, your aching body had stopped shaking, and you melted into her embrace.

Which brought you here, with the police.

You couldn't ignore the burning gaze glaring into your back of her eyes; your back was turned while watching you interact with the police, but you could still visualize her penetrating gaze, her soulful, brown eyes filled with a fierce fire of worry and anger.

When you were finally done with the police, a fresh batch of tears had formed in your eyes, and your legs were shaky as it just hit you what'd just happened to could've died. Trembling, you felt yourself falling down again. Back to the safety of the ground, where you could hold on.

"Aria," you saw Spencer mouth at you, a look of worry on her face. She stood up and brushed off Toby's questions of where she was going, making her way quickly toward you.

"S-Spence," you whispered, letting out a choked sob.

Without meaning to, the tears started falling from your face; down, down, down. You buried your face in your hands, slightly embarrassed to be crying in front of her. Suddenly, you felt two strong, protective arms wrap around you, and you flinched and pull back, only to see it was only Spencer, not someone mysterious person covered in a mask.

"Aria, it's just me," the taller girl murmured, her eyes holding a gentle sympathy in them.

"Sorry," you said, quietly. You quickly moved back toward the girl and buried your face in her shoulder, allowing yourself to be surrounded by her warmth.

You woke up, panting and sweating, shaking and trembling, the memory of the nightmare still echoing in your mind. Silent tears, you realized, were streaming down your face, and you sniffled, a tiny whimper escaping your pale, pink lips. Realizing it was the middle of the night, and you could only see from the silver of the bright moonlight, your breathing rate increased. You felt another panic attack coming on, stronger than the last one. Your heart pounded in your ears, and your eyes were stinging with the burn of warm tears and tiredness.

The air in your room was freezing; you saw it'd gone down to a good sixty-eight degrees. If you breathed out, you could see the puff of air from it. Goosebumps crowded over your skin, as you were only wearing a tank top and pajama shorts. You slowly got up and crept to the air conditioner monitor, changing it back to eighty degrees.

You tried going back to sleep after that, but your brain wouldn't shut off, and your eyes refused to close.

If you couldn't see anything, if you closed your eyes, would you end up back in that box?

Would you end up being killed, this time?

You knew what you needed more than anyone in that moment was Spencer. She could always make you feel comforted and safe, even after something as traumatic as what'd happened to you earlier. You searched for your phone, and when you found it, you automatically dialed the familiar number.

"H-hello?" a tired, sleepy voice muttered on the other end of the line.

"Spencer."

That was all you could say before breaking down again.

"Aria?!" Spencer questioned, suddenly sounding wide awake.

"I need you," you managed to choke out.

"I'll be right there," was all the other girl said, sounding worried, before hanging up.

You were left hearing the sound of the dial tone, and the soft sound of your sniffles.

You were still cold, trembling in your bed, even though you were covered in your many sheets and a big blanket. Luckily, at that moment, Spencer gently pushed open the door to your room, careful not to disturb anyone.

"Scoot over," the tall brunette whispered when she reached the edge of your bed.

You did as you were told, unraveling your burrito of bed covers to allow the other girl to get in. You felt the bed dip beneath you as she lay down, inching closer to you. You shivered yet again, which she noticed, for she wrapped her arms around your tiny body and held you close. From that position, your nose was breathing in the scent of her hair; strawberry shampoo. Her warm breath fell softly on your face, and the soothing touch of her hands rubbing your back relaxed you. You closed your eyes, allowing yourself to fall.

"I'm so glad you're here," you whispered, your lips grazing her ear.

You could've sworn you felt a shiver pass through her, but if one had, you assumed it was from the cold temperature of the room.

"Me, too," Spencer breathed quietly.

I'm so glad I'm lying here, this close to you. You make me feel so safe, you wanted to add, but the words were caught in your throat.

Lost in your thoughts, you didn't see Spencer leaning slowly toward you, and it was only when she kissed your nose and forehead, softly, that you looked at her again; her chocolate brown eyes glowing silver, her waves of dark, brown hair, her perfectly shaped face. Your heart was beating in your throat from the touch of her lips on your skin, and you closed your eyes again.

Just as you were drifting off to sleep, you heard a quiet murmur:

"There's nowhere else I'd rather be, my love."