My eyes snapped open to pitch-black nothingness.
The air reeked of wet socks and moldy bread. Something else lingered too… a sharp stench of rotting flesh and decay. But it vanished as quickly as it came.
My back ached like I had slept on a rock, which, judging by the hard bed under me, might have not been far from the truth.
"Okay…" I whispered into the darkness, trying to feel my surroundings. Either this was purgatory, or Spirit Airlines had gotten creative with their landing options.
I pushed myself up, but my hand smacked against a cold, damp wall.
Great. The room was about the size of a broom closet and just as welcoming.
"Hello? Anybody here?" My voice rang out, bouncing off the walls.
Then it hit me. The plane. The screaming. The masks. The crash.
Oh my God.
My chest tightened. Crap. Had I actually died?
I sat still for a second, waiting for fire, for demons with pitchforks, for… something. Anything.
But there was nothing. Just darkness.
Okay, so not hell. Unless hell was boring now. Definitely not heaven either, unless God had decided to renovate on a budget.
I laughed nervously, and my laugh echoed back, making fun of me.
Something shuffled in the corner with a soft growl, making me whip my head around so fast. "Who's there!?"
Whatever it was scurried closer, growling again. Sharper this time.
"Holy crap!" My heart practically broke out of my ribcage. I scrambled backward, bumping into the hard bed frame.
No. No. Nope. This was how horror movies starts. Girl wakes up in a creepy room, hears a growl and gets eaten.
Not me. I refuse!
The growl grew louder, closer. Tiny footsteps padded against the floor. I squinted into the dark, but all I saw was moving shadow.
"Oh God, if this is purgatory, you really have a sick sense of humor."
My hand brushed against something on the wall.
A switch. Thank God!
With trembling fingers, I flipped it, and the room flooded with weak yellow light.
And there, majestically standing in front of me like the king of the underworld… was a chihuahua.
A freaking chihuahua!
It tilted its head, calm as a yoga instructor, with white streaks in its fur. Cute.
I stared at it. It stared back.
"You've got to be kidding me" I whispered, squatting. "I thought I was about to fight a demon. But you are just… a rodent-sized dog with trust issues?"
It yawned in response.
I took a deep breath and finally looked around properly. The room was as depressing as it smelled; cracked walls, dirty floor, a bed that looked like it had been stolen from a prison auction.
Then I glanced down at myself and nearly choked.
Skinny. Filthy. My hands were pale and bony. My clothes were basically rags, and my hair was a tangled mess. I looked like a hobo.
Yup. I was officially crazy.
My gaze snapped to the bed, cause something lit up there.
My Kindle.
Relief hit me, and I lunged for it, clutching it like it was my ticket home.
But before my eyes, the smooth plastic began to morph. Its screen vanished, and the weight shifted.
It was no longer my Kindle. It was a hardcover book with the title: The Tears of an Abandoned Daughter.
My blood ran cold. I flipped it open, pages fluttering under my fingers. The story was there. But just like on the plane, the words were different. My name replaced Elise's, line after line. And when I got to the middle…
Blank. The rest of the book was completely empty.
My throat tightened, and I felt a headache coming.
I turned back a page. The very last written line stared up at me.
…Sofia closed her eyes and darkness swallowed her.
A chill slid down my spine. That was me. The plane. The crash.
Oh God. Don't tell me I had actually fallen into this cliché dumpster fire of a story. Like I was trapped in this stupid, cursed book?!
The dog barked once, like it was confirming my nightmare, and I dropped the book onto the bed and rubbed my face in frustration.
Great. Just great! I had always said this novel was trash, and now I was starring in it. Irony really was a comedian.
I started pacing back and forth, with trembling hands. "Okay, Sof. Calm down and think…"
Step one: accept you are in the stupid book.
Step two: don't die before the next chapter.
Step three: figure out how to rewrite this mess before it rewrites you.
Fuck! I hated the day I decided to download this piece of shit!!
Before I could spiral any further, the door slammed open.
A girl stormed in, with her face twisted in fury. She didn't even blink at me before snarling, "You bitch!!!"
Bitch? I raised a brow.
Her tone dripped venom, and she was fuming like I had stolen her car and run over her favorite shoes.
I blinked at her, taking in the perfectly styled hair, expensive 2010s clothes, and the way she carried herself like the world owed her a crown. Looked about nineteen years old.
And the most damning evidence: the big, butchered mole on her left brow.
Recognition clicked. Oh. Ashley.
Let me explain who this silly goose was. Miss Ashley was the spoiled brat of Judith, Elise's crazy stepmother, and John, her good-for-nothing father. Her half-sister, basically. The one character I could never stand in the novel. And now, apparently, part of my welcoming committee.
Ashley stormed closer, jabbing her finger at me. "You were supposed to wash the dishes before Mom comes back! Do you ever listen, Sofia? Like. Ever?"
I blinked at her, forcing myself to stay calm. My brain scrambled — wait, wasn't there a scene like this in the book?
Yes! Judith barking orders, Elise exhausted, Ashley ready to pounce. Mami… Mami had helped, but the water had run out due to an ongoing maintenance. Right. That was it.
I leaned back, pretending to be weak, and with a tiny voice. "Um… about that. The water cut off midway due to…"
Ashley scoffed. "Excuses. Always excuses!"
"Look, I got some of it done, okay? Then maintenance decided to play games with the water line. I'm not a plumber."
Her eyes narrowed. "You're lying. You just didn't want to do it, you lazy bitch."
God help me, I was going to wrangle this heifer's neck and feed it to the fucking hyenas she resembled. But I needed to tread carefully until I was sure of what I was dealing with here.
Ashley crossed her arms, smirking. "You know what? I'll just tell Mom. Let's see how she handles you then."
That did it. The caution slipped, and my real voice broke free.
I tilted my head, smiling sweetly. "Go ahead, stupid. Tell little Mrs. Judith. I don't give a fuck."
Ashley's mouth dropped to the floor, and I understood why. The one person Elise feared the most in her whole life was Judith, her stepmom. So seeing 'Elise' act nonchalant after threatening to report her would make even the devil stop dead in his tracks.
For a second, the room was deliciously silent, her spoiled pea-sized excuse of a brain struggling to comprehend my audacity.
I smirked. "Cat got your tongue? SCRAM!!!!"
She trembled in fear and bolted from the room, calling me a lunatic at the top of her voice.
I used the little strength left in me to laugh, feeling satisfied… for now.