Welcome to Gaia! ::

The sound of grinding metal slices the air. Sparks spew from the source of the collision. They whip and flutter in front of Kyra’s face like upturned leaves in a gale. It’s only a flash just within her peripheral vision, and then it sprays out, half blinding her. Two tires jump the sidewalk. A stop sign’s left hunching over; blue flecks of paint holding strong at the bend. Damage done, the car rounds the corner before Kyra can exhale. By her next breath she is already halfway across the street, physically and mentally unscathed by the near hit and miss. Her speed only hastens by the quickening constriction of her chest.

Kyra’s lungs would close up sooner than she desired. The sky tuning with them, snuff out the moonlight. The rain comes first as a light curtain, then quickly as bucketful waves. Every drop is an ice blade, piercing through cloth and flesh. Cold air clings to her neck and chest, stiffening her muscles. Every tendon in her body is already exhausted and deprived of oxygen, but the rhythmic stomps of her feet on the pavement stay in beat, growing faster still.


Chance salvation sits atop the front steps of her apartment complex. The door is wide open, and Kyra is easily able to hurl herself within. Sprinting up the stairs, still holding back the subtle waves of pain inching their way throughout her body, she makes it into the apartment. No one’s home but all she had held back ]comes rushing at her. Her knees buckle and bend, as unstable as her thoughts, wobbling every which way with the slightest of pressure. Her loose sense of balance and darkening vision send her stumbling down the hall, clawing at the walls. Plain white paint easily crumbled under her fingernails. Garments trail off onto the floor behind her.

“Hello? You home?” Isaac’s voice clearly echoes down the hallway. Kyra’s face scrunches up at the sound. She adverts her eyes to the bathroom door, not too far away.

“I thought you wouldn’t be back until 10:30. Why are you…Kyra?” Peering down the hallway, Isaac sees Kyra barely standing. She throws a look over her should, for a moment staring at him and, with the last of her energy, bolts for the door. She dives into the bathroom before Isaac can think to react. She locks the door and lets her back slam against it. As she slides to the floor, her body jolts slightly; Isaac started to pound the door. Kyra knows his attempts are fruitless even as the room began to shudder.

“God, why didn’t you tell me? Open the door! Damn it Kyra, please!” Isaac’s shouts sting her ears. Her eyes burn and sharp stabbing pains work their way down her spine, tearing through her chest, probably churning organs in her rib cage. She wonders if something might burst out of it. Sci-fi movie clips speed through her mind, making her chuckle at the pain aloud. Her laughter turns to cries as the ache increases. She reach's out for the sink to pull herself up, but her knees collide with the cheap, cracked linoleum tiles when Isaac began to ram the door.

“Please…please just go away! You can’t do anything! I can take care of it…” Tears tumble over her cheeks as she strains to speak. Kyra pulls herself up to look into the mirror. It’s become steamy and her face looks faded behind the foggy glass. The rich tan of her skin is waned away by fear and exhaustion. Her long dark curls stick to the side of her face, heavy and damp with sweat. Her eyes are gaping dark spheres on her face. Isaac can be heard wrestling with the doorknob. In a reactive fury, Kyra rips the medicine cabinet open, allowing all its contents to spill out into the sink.

“Just come out! I can help you! Please God, let me help you! Open the door! Open the- Argh!” His shouts cut into a short, deep scream of pain. The doorknob became a ball of searing metal. Isaac’s shouts only reach Kyra as erratic whispers swirling in the heat. Thin wafts of sauna-like steam begin to fill the room. The water in the toilet bubbles over and Isaac’s wails of pain and desperation are cut through by the sound of porcelain cracking. A surge of burning hot water licks Kyra's naked feet but she doesn’t flinch nor notice.

Her eyes dart round the room in quick fear as her sight and hearing begins to dampen. The candles beside the bathtub are puddles of wax and the shower curtains seem crushed up to their hooks, dripping molten plastic. The green wallpaper has started stripping itself to the floor and the toilet paper is a roll of embers. In the sink, all the bottles and tubes sit in a clump of useless play dough. The pills, now nothing but a ball of paste and plastic, would not have dulled her stinging, stabbing, cramps and aches. Kyra understands that but she still clasps her hands angrily onto the toilet cover and flings it in frustration at the mirror, sending reflecting glass shards everywhere.

The sounds of pounding and shouting dissipate from the air as Isaac moves from the door. Steam seeps out from under it. The air in the bathroom is so thick and heavy that the room’s volume can no longer contain it all. Kyra crumples into a heap onto the floor amongst the broken bits of mirror, trembling and screaming in fits of pain. Her whole body burns from the inside. A hot reflecting piece of silver sparkles in front of Kyra. Without a second thought she snatches it and plunges it deep into her thigh. Blood oozes from between her fingers and leg, spilling out onto the floor as a gushing sigh.

Her legs crunch up, bending her body into a fetal position. Pinkish hot water laps against her head. Kyra’s gaze locks with the blinking light bulb on the ceiling. The blood slowly seeps away. The pain slowly seeps away. The fog of heat in the room slowly seeps away. The hum of electricity ceases from above and she eases into unconsciousness.