The descent stopped long ago. The lights have stopped working, vainly flickering on and off, fighting for life then finally stopping all together. I have long sense been plunged into darkness. There's a slight hint of smoke in the air.

I'm alone in here. I'm not sure where, I never got a chance to look around. The waxing and waning of the echoes is haunting me. Noises claw toward me born from the slow destruction of my salvation or is it my crypt. My only comfort is the constant tick tock of the small pocket watch that still sits in my inside pocket, a fitting requiem I suppose. I'd like to think I could feel the gears grinding against each other, mindless of the darkness.

The wood flooring I'm sitting on is rough against my raw skin. The incline forcing me down into a darkness I can't begin to imagine. I wince as I push my self back up the floor feeling around for the wall, looking for comfort in having something to touch.

I reach inside my coat pocket with nimble fingers and tug on the delicate silver chain that is attached to my watch unlatching it from my coat. The silver is blindingly cold against my blistered fingers but still I continue until the watch is sitting on my throbbing palm. I run my thumb over the etched surface and smile.

I flip open the latch and fumble as I pull out the photo inside. I can't see it because of the darkness but just touching it and knowing what lies inside the picture is enough for me.

The floor lurches violently below me and I drop my watch in surprise. Panic stricken I slip the photo back into my pocket and crawl around the floor searching with my fingers for the photo. My heart is pounding; more so then when this entire disaster began as I inch along. Finally my fingers glide against the cool surface of my watch. I nearly cry in relief.

As I sit back something hard and sharp bites in to my side from inside my hip pocket. Wincing I gingerly reach inside my pocket and pull out a little wooden box.

Excited with remembrance I run my shaking fingers over the rough side of the matchbox, ripping open my blisters and making them bleed.

I slid open the top careful to not let the matches fall out. Nimbly I slip my fingers inside feeling around trying to count how many are left. Two. Two chances are all I have to look at your face again.

I take out your photo again, replacing my watch in my pocket. I take out one of the matches and sit there; match tip barely touching the box. I can't do it, I'm so afraid of what lies behind the range of existence that has been closing in on me making me feel claustrophobic. Finally, stealing myself against the unknown I strike it. A blinding flash of light erupts from the tip as well as a puff of sulfur. In surprise I drop the match and the light is engulfed by darkness as quickly as it came.

Cursing myself in every way I know I sit there breathing erratically trying to calm myself down. Finally when I've gathered my resolve I run my sweating hands along my damp cloths vainly trying to dry my hands off. I grip the match firmly and strike it against the flint. This time I make a conscious effort not to drop it. Blinking against the sudden brightness I bring the photo into the small orb of light illuminating your face.

Not breathing for the few seconds that the rapidly fading light allows me I burn your image into my mind. Just as I trace my eyes along your delicate hands the light goes out burning my finger tips.

I shake as I'm plunged into darkness again, but I'm no longer alone. I sit here crouched, my back against the wall, clutching and stroking your well-worn photograph. I can feel the contours of you body through the paper even though I know I can't. I sit rocking back and forth pretending you're here with me, comforting me and holding me.

My last thoughts are of you as I slowly suffocate in the sour air. Trapped in a pocket of air surrounded by the darkness. Darkness so thick that I can feel it lashing out at me, infecting me, devouring me.

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My first story type thing
Don't be overly harsh if you can avoid it
I break easily
Review if you want