Can you keep a secret?

“Can you keep a secret?”

Her lungs rattled with a burst of choked laughter as she shifted slightly. The fabric that covered her mouth was starting to let the dust in, her throat feeling raw and tight. It seemed that they weren’t going to get crushed to death by all the rocks above them. No, the boulders had landed conveniently enough that they were now trapped in a rock igloo. No, it was the dust that was going to do it. What a pitiful death, she thought.

“Sure,” she sighed, lying back to listen. “I can’t promise I won’t tell bugs around here, but I think they’re trustworthy.”

He let out a pity laugh at her bad joke, but soon his lips curled into a frown.

“I’m scared of dying.”

The enclosement went silent, the only sound being their struggling breaths. The dust was heavy in the air, filling their lungs with sand and debris.

“I’m scared of not… existing,” he whispered. “I’m scared I’ll be aware of my non-existence. I’m scared it’s going to be-“ he cut himself off, falling into a coughing fit, hacking into the crease of his elbow. Slowly as he regained somewhat of a steady breath, he gasped, “I’m scared it’s going to be cold and dark. I don’t want to be alone!” His body was shaking as tears started to gather in the corners of his eyes.

“You have not existed before, you know,” she murmured, wanting to be as comforting as possible, despite the existential conversation they were having. “Back before you were born.

“Maybe it won’t be that bad,” she tried, although she was lying to herself. Fear had numbed her. It always did. She didn’t remember the last time she let herself feel fear. She usually weaponized it against herself, using it to keep her on her feet. The fear of failure, weaponized so she could succeed. The fear of being alone, weaponized so she never was alone with her thoughts. The fear of death, though, could not be weaponized. At least not in a way she knew of. Instead, her brain had shut down. Physically she was there, but mentally she had already died.

“We are gonna suffocate because of all this fucking dust,” he kicked the ground below him, his breathing picking up as he continued to shake. “It’s going to be painful. It’s going to be slow.” He started to hyperventilate, his hands finding his hair.

“Hey, hey, hey,” she whispered, moving close to him. She gently pried his hands away from his hair, making sure he didn’t rip out his locks. Taking a hold of both of them, she pulled him to lay on his side. “Slow breaths. Like this,” she demonstrated by taking in a long, deep breath, and then exhaling slowly. He tried to mimic but his breaths faltered as he choked on the dust. He coughed loudly for half a minute before regaining a somewhat normal breathing pattern.

“I want my mom,” he whispered, a stream of tears spilling down his cheeks as pure terror flashed in his eyes. The panicked breaths got replaced by sobs and she knew that no breathing exercise would help here.

Instead, she pulled him close, placing her chin on the crown of his head. He didn’t fight the embrace but lay limp in her grip for a long time. She let him cry out in the crook of her neck. Every once in a while, he choked on the dust and coughed and hacked into her skin, but she didn’t mind. She hummed to him, a song her older sister had hummed to her so many times. Like him, she’d stop every once in a while to just cough her lungs out, despite feeling as if her throat was closing up.

Her eyes were stinging from the smaller particles, and involuntarily her eyes watered. She wasn’t sad. Not yet at least. It was easier to be strong for others than to herself, she thought. As long as he needed her, she could be strong.

His crying died down, only his sniffles being audible.

“Let’s try to sleep, okay?” she whispered, squeezing him tightly. His arms had found their way around her waist, clinging to her as if he let go, she might disappear. “I’m here with you. It’s going to be okay.”

He shook in her arms for what seemed like hours, the two of them never moving from their spot. The sun must have gone down at some point because their small chamber that had been unbearably hot before had dropped in temperature dramatically. Her hands were painfully clasped around his back.

She didn’t remember when he stopped shaking, but it was when she woke up from a short rest that her body had allowed her that she realized he wasn’t breathing anymore.

The fear kicked in. The numbness was gone, and oh did she miss it. The tears flow free and she lets her body cry. She wasn’t in control anymore, and she didn’t care. Exhaustion was finding her, so she hugged him tighter. She didn’t care. They were still in this together. Somewhere, and nowhere, he was waiting for her.

She kissed the crown of his head, as she spoke, “Can you keep a secret? I’m scared too.”

No response came, which was expected but disappointing. She continued, ”I want to be strong. I want to lie and say that things will be okay, but I can’t,” she sniffled, feeling her lips quiver as more sobs were threatening to send her spiraling. With her broken voice, however, she began humming the same tune she had to him. It was cold in their hole, yet she was sweating and shaking, but through it all, she kept humming that tune, occasionally stopping to cough or cry. She was swaying his body slightly, as she cradled his head, wetting his hair with her tears.

She didn’t remember when she stopped, but before she could let the fear overtake her, it was all over.

And it was okay.