These walls are closing in; I'm sure the cell is slowly getting smaller. I feel contained, trapped. I'm sick of it all, sick of missing Peter and fearing for my life, (yes, I'm afraid now,) and crying.
I feel energy, pent up emotions, running through me, around me. Suddenly, I'm dizzy. I scream for air, for water, but no one hears me. (Of course.)
It's more intense now, there's a strange and strong heat building in my palms.
I cry out, feeling done and sick and tired and just DONE.
There's an earsplitting crack and a flash of blue light.