The Tunnels Below by Nadine Wild-Palmer (have you read this book .txt) 📗

travelled faster and faster, deeper and deeper—she could tell because her ears kept popping and she kept trying to yawn to release the pressure. All at once she was plunged into darkness. She had never experienced darkness like it, thick and heavy. Frightening thoughts formed and danced into the black and became frenzied before: SNAP! The carriage lights flashed back on, flickering like blinking eyes. She sucked in her breath, feeling the train slow to a stop. Steadying herself, she watched as the train arrived at a station. The doors opened, an invitation for her to get off, but this was a station she definitely didn’t recognise.

Cecilia stood frozen in the artificial lights of the train carriage for some time before even daring to breathe. She could see from the light being thrown out on the other side of the doors that there was a small platform covered in soot. She waited for something to happen. Nothing happened. There was only stillness, silence and the imperceptible passing of time. No clock ticked but she felt as though an eternity was passing through her with each beat of her heart. A dusty mouse scuffing through the soot brought her back to the moment. Was it wearing a pair of shoes and a jumper? Cecilia moved closer to look but it had already disappeared. Now at the mouth of the doors, she knew for the first time in her life the weight of being nowhere. She looked for signs: there were none. She called for a response: none came. After what felt like hours of waiting and shouting for help, her fear abandoned her briefly and she stepped off the train. No sooner had she left the train did the doors clap shut and the train leave her.

Cecilia found herself abandoned in a false night, the light from the train dimming as it departed. Her body shook and the sound of her own whimpering was as close as if she were listening to it on headphones. Her breathing hastened and she burst into tears. Cecilia’s legs wobbled and gave way: she crumpled to the ground where she wept violently, terrified and helpless against the colossal depth of the darkness all around her.

3The End of the Line

A thought of Hester popped into Cecilia’s head and gave her a moment of calm. In the safety of her mind she remembered all the times they had played hide and seek in the dark corners of their family home. Oh, how she wanted to go home. A longing grew in her chest, but she tried to hold it back, swallow the lump in her throat. Deep down Cecilia knew that in her current situation if she thought too long about getting home, the fear that she might never return could become real and suffocate her entirely. So she imagined that Hester was just hiding in the dark and all she had to do was find her; she felt better, stronger even, like she wasn’t alone any more because this was all a game, and eventually Hester would jump out at her and they would laugh. Then they could steal the raw jelly from the top cupboard, like they had so many times before, and eat it in the middle of the night.

But this was not a game of hide and seek. In the end Cecilia had no choice but to get moving. It couldn’t possibly get any worse. She realised that the only person who could make a difference to her situation was herself. The train had gone, taking its light with it. Her eyes widened as they tried to find something to focus on, searching for some direction in the endless black. She shuffled forwards and found a wall; it was a huge comfort to feel something solid against her hands. The tunnel only ran in two directions as far as she should tell: left and right. This was useful because it meant she only had to make a decision based on two options. She squinted hard and coming into focus on the right there seemed to be the hint of a colour, an aura of orangey-brown. To the left there was nothing but black. Really she had no choice but to head towards the light. Cecilia took a deep breath and began to feel her way along the wall.

She imagined what it might be like to go deep-sea diving at night, never quite sure what strange or fantastic creature might jump out at you. The thought was terrifying. Once again she remembered it was a bad idea to think too much. For a time she hummed the tune to ‘Greensleeves’ that she had learnt on the recorder at school, but her throat soon felt sore and dry. She moved faster towards the source of the light, and as she drew nearer she could just about make out an archway with autumnal colours shining through. Was she imagining it? She paused a moment, afraid to let go of the wall. She almost turned to look back at how far she had come but changed her mind. Wiping her hands on her coat, she stepped into the light.

Her skin prickled. It was actually warm, which pleased her as she realised how cold she had been. Before walking through the archway, she noticed some writing, covered in dirt and gunge. She wiped it off with the corner of her jacket and whispered the words to herself:

“Those who wander will regret

If they return they will forget

For those who step outside the lines

Will lose all sense of place and time.”

Cecilia considered it a moment before walking through into the small atrium in front of her. It was quite beautiful. The walls were pockmarked and there were tiny fragments of broken mirror glittering about the place that picked up the gentle hue of orange and shone it back. The orange light came from fluorescent tubes that ran round the edges of the space and climbed the walls,