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A girl inherits a very unusual condition.

She clung to David with all her might as the wind rose to a terrible roar and something crashed above them. David's heart pounded as he tried to remain still and wait, wait to live or wait to die. Lila shrieked into his neck as the entire cellar suddenly shook and things were falling all around them. The noise was almost unbearable. Lila's eyes were squeezed shut, and a voice in her head kept praying, please let it be quick, please let there be no pain...

As quickly as the twister had hit, it was over. The next thing David and Lila heard was silence, mingled with the pounding of their own hearts in their ears. They both remained frozen, listening to the quiet that was almost as deafening as the wind had been, and even more terrifying, neither of them ready to trust it yet. After almost five minutes, it was Lila who broke it.

"David?" she asked in a small and shaking voice. "Are you all right?"

David slowly lifted his head a little bit. "I think so," he told her, shifting a little. "Are you all right? I didn't hurt you, did I?"

Lila shook her head and answered, "No, you didn't. I'm fine."

They both slowly became aware that they were alive and unhurt. Quick on the heels of that realisation came the notion that it was darker than it should have been.

And the space under the table had changed somehow, but they could not pin down how.

David lifted himself slowly up off of Lila's body, trying to sit up, but whacked his head on the bottom of the table top. "Dammit," he muttered, deciding to try and scoot backwards, toward the open end of the table behind their feet. But when he did, his bare feet didn't find open space. Carefully, he used his foot to navigate around behind them, and all he felt were brick pieces and slabs of wood, what could only be debris. And it stretched all the way to the table top, and probably beyond.

He reached out with one hand, supporting his weight with the other, toward the front of the table, the open space they had scooted under by, praying his hand would find nothing. But his prayers were denied, for again, he hit a wall of rubble. A wall that completely blocked the table opening, by the feel of it.

And cement wall still blocked the opposite side and the side behind Lila's head.

The table they were hiding beneath was completely buried in rubble. There was no way for them to get out. Pinpoints of light shone in through the debris wall, which was a small comfort, for it meant that they would also have enough air so that they would not suffocate.

Not for a while, at least.

"What's the matter?" Lila asked. She had not moved throughout his entire inspection of their blocked escape routes, but she knew something was not right. She also thought she knew what it was, and she was praying to be wrong. But David's words cut that hope off quickly.

"We're buried under this table," he told her, in the same calm and quiet tone he used to say hello to her occasionally. Oddly enough, his tone delayed immediate panic for her. "I think your apartment, and probably mine too, has collapsed into the cellar."

Bright tendrils of panic pierced Lila's mind. With a superhuman effort, she fought them down. "Can't we dig our way out?"

David was still propped up on his elbows, holding his body off of Lila's. "I don't think so. Neither of us is strong enough to move that wall of rubble, and we'd probably bring even more down. We'd end up buried even more than we are now, or risk the table breaking. It's a miracle it stood. We have light, and air, and at least we're not hurt."

"So we have to wait," Lila said in a dull voice that did not even begin to convey the fear rising up within her. She hated small spaces with every bone in her body, and the urge to scream and try to fight and kick her way out was very difficult to control.

"I'm going to try to move so we can sit up," David told her.

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