Why can’t I move?
I’m boxed in, arms pinned alongside me. Something smells familiar. Damp, musty. My eyes struggle to adjust—I’m in absolute darkness. I try moving and … fall? Did I fall backwards? Panic overtakes me. I lurch forward—upwards—and my forehead smacks sharply against something. Wood. Dear God. Noooo! The End E.I.Q
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