She was not aware of even her own scream.In the time it took for her spirit to be pulled into the box, Heather thought she would go insane. Then, mercifully, there was something in the horrible emptiness. It was like a very dim light on the horizon in an inky-black, moonless night. Two of them, flickering at the very edge of her perceptions.It was Susan and Ann. She tried to reach out to them, and she sensed them reaching to her. But the gulf between them stretched into eternity.Thoughts swirled around her spirit. Thoughts of despair. Thoughts of sorrow. Thoughts of regret. Some were her own, some were not. It was as if she, Susan, and Ann were sharing a single consciousness despite the vast gulf that appeared to separate them in the void.Ann's thoughts were the most anguished, her mental voice the most shrill. She was one step away from insanity herself. But where their thoughts were so intimately shared, now Heather felt her own grip on sanity loosen.A fourth dim beacon flickered. On reflection I recognise now that I was dead right with my life plan because in reality her name was Claire and she really was crap compared to porn magazines so I didn't bother with her twice, the porn was way better.Things got much better in adolesence, they say those early years are the best of your life but I wouldn't trade back, not a chance. I was now generously flush with porn mags and quite envied for it. I had far more than anybody else, stashed in places nobody else could hope to locate. I was a dark ninja, a porn sleuth, I could find porn, hide, hide it, and recover it, at will, nobody could match my skills. In latter years I thought I would write a guide book on acquiring and retaining that which one was not permitted to own and make a fortune, but yeah, the internet happened and ruined that idea entirely. Anyway what happened was that along with having an engorged library was that I became increasingly careless with the magazines I was carrying. The idea of losing some.
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