Short short short. open this up soon, yeah?
There was nothing. Jefferson's cries and calls for him went unnoticed in the complete and total blackness that consumed his conscious. There was no sounds at all. No sights, smells and not even any feelings. If Pripyay was injured he was unaware of it, as he was of everything and that was quite alright. Was this was death was like? Total emptiness? If so why was anyone so afraid of it? Afraid of nothing? Yet Pripyat could consider this, as he might if he was aware of the total nothingness, but he couldn't comprehend anything. Simply just drifting further and further into a void that seemed so welcoming, so encompassing. No reason to pull himself back out.
And then there was jerked and movement. And blackness. And then sound and coldness once more. And blackness. Then light as his eyes fluttered open. And Jefferson was carrying him away somewhere. Where were they? Outside? When had they left the cabin? How was his father free? Pripyat could not recall the last moments before he blacked out, the falling roof, the timber hitting his young body and crushing him beneath it. Then slight pains came here and there. Bruises with nothing broken, and then he saw the blood. Felt it against his skin, sticky and wet. Where was he bleeding from? And then he realized it. His father was bleeding, and bleeding a lot. And missing one arm. "Daaad…" It was meant to come out in a scream of horror and protest, but the boy was too tired, too pained to do much more than mumble the one syllable before letting the complete blackness to encompass him again as he drifted in and out of consciousness, in and out of the nightmare that they were still in the middle of.
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