Her wandering arms faltered, and she concentrated on reaching air first, before attempting to stand in the now chest-deep slime. Her diary must have fallen in the ruckus, and was probably ruined, laying sodden and useless underneath all of the gunk. Still, Cecil did say…
Mary shook her head and wheezed in fright, half-sobbing at what she was about to do, all of her instincts telling her otherwise – to run away, out of her damaged underground home, out into the maze of tunnels, out to the surface – lest she be completely drowned.
But her journal…all of her thoughts, her ideas, her emotions…It was her love.
She drew in a shaky breath and held it, despite the pounding of her heart, and dove in.