Risa
The night had been a blur of sound and energy. I danced and spun until I had lost all sense of self and became one with the hurricane of Amity. The drums beat harder and faster, rising to a near-impossible tempo, but I braved the storm until the very end.
Most of the room had cleared, with a few stragglers sweeping the floor and packing away the drums. I busied myself by taking down lanterns in an unoccupied section while I waited for the others.
Suddenly, the cloying scent of fermented apples filled my nostrils. I turned in time to see a pale, lovely face leering down at me. Then, two pairs of hands hauled me up by the arms and under the knees.
Panic
The creak of rusted hinges, shattering of lanterns; a half-yell cut short, and I am stuffed into an old shelving unit. Raucous laughter.
Panic
The front panel slams down, and I find myself in complete darkness. I can feel hard, packed earth against my back; one shoulder is twisted underneath me. Toes pushed painfully against the wood.
I fight overwhelming terror, reminding myself not to take too-deep breaths, reassuring myself. You've done this before. The others will notice I'm gone and will come looking for me before I run out of air.
The scrape of a padlock sliding into the catch. Its dull click tells me I am truly trapped.
All reason is flung from my mind and I am a child back in Abnegation in a tiny clothing unit in the dark and I am frightened I am ramming my heels against the door and trying to scream but it is hoarse as if too much air is trying to escape all at once and I am pounding against old musty grain begging to be let out but I know no one can hear me they are still talking and laughing outside blocking the escape blocking my sounds and a wall of stars is blinding my vision and bile is closing my throat oh god how could I have been so stupid and now no one knows where I am and no one will be able to find me I am going to die in here.
I am going to die in here.
And then yelling and someone is banging back against the panel from the outside, trying to communicate, trying to tell me that they are here. I do not hear laughter anymore. I am still clawing at the panel, though I don't know why.
And, finally, a snap and lift and rush of damp air and dim light and I am pulled and lifted and carried and, finally, cool clean air like an oasis in desert and my throat has unstuck but I am still unable to suck in air, I'm still making these animal yelps; I cannot breathe the air that I am surrounded by and I am furious with myself and then ashamed; I try to take a step and the world lurches out from underneath my feet and then I find I am clinging to slick grass until I am gasping for air and retching and then the ringing fades from my ears and I am looking up at a high, cold moon with hot, streaming eyes half-curled on the ground. I can faintly recall I used to sleep with my knees to my chest, ankles crossed like an infant and now I am once again curled like a newborn calf damp and stunned on the ground.
I hear a distant voice somewhere behind me. I am now acutely aware of how I must look, sweating and senseless, reborn into a cold, unforgiving world. Only I am not given the blessing of ignorance. I must remember everything. I am not allowed to forget.
I pick myself up and stumble home.