Post by Roseé on Sept 7, 2009 15:57:26 GMT -5
So this first one is just something I whipped up in about half an hour last night at midnight. I'm not continuing with it, it simply is what it is.
She heard a sound. Something small hitting the floor and bouncing once, twice, then rolling and coming to a stop against the door frame. Empty silence, aside from her heart beating too loudly in her chest. she waited to see if they had heard, then let out a breath of relief that the house had remained still. The door was locked as always, which meant the only way out was through the window.
The attic was too far up for a safe drop, even if you lowered yourself over the edge slowly. She scanned the room for anything useful. Metal coat hangers, her tattered sheets (which would probably tear), a candle, and a curtain rod. She had an idea.
Quietly moving to the closet, she took out the metal coat hanger; each movement painfully slow. There were twelve. She walked over to the matress on the floor and standing on it, she put the ends of the hangers under her feet and unbent them one by one. Then she looped them together, doubling back and twisting them so that they couldn't slip.
Carefully, she lowered the hangers over the edge of the window and curled the last one around the window lock. She unwound it again- the curtain rod would be stronger. The rod was not in use; it leaned against the wall, so she brought it over and barred it across the window. Once again she curled the last hanger, this time around the rod. It was stable when she gave it a tug.
The candle was at the other side of the room as well. It was thin, and broke easily when strained in her hands. She took a small piece of the wax and pushed it into the very tip of the hanger wire, to keep it from scraping against the wall on the way down. Outside, it had started to snow. The Winter air was frozen and she knew she couldn't last long. She threw the tattered sheets down into a pile below her. They would not provide any decent warmpth but still more than her thin sweater and blue jeans alone.
It was time for the final test. She would face death here or risk almost certain death to escape.
She heard a sound. Something small hitting the floor and bouncing once, twice, then rolling and coming to a stop against the door frame. Empty silence, aside from her heart beating too loudly in her chest. she waited to see if they had heard, then let out a breath of relief that the house had remained still. The door was locked as always, which meant the only way out was through the window.
The attic was too far up for a safe drop, even if you lowered yourself over the edge slowly. She scanned the room for anything useful. Metal coat hangers, her tattered sheets (which would probably tear), a candle, and a curtain rod. She had an idea.
Quietly moving to the closet, she took out the metal coat hanger; each movement painfully slow. There were twelve. She walked over to the matress on the floor and standing on it, she put the ends of the hangers under her feet and unbent them one by one. Then she looped them together, doubling back and twisting them so that they couldn't slip.
Carefully, she lowered the hangers over the edge of the window and curled the last one around the window lock. She unwound it again- the curtain rod would be stronger. The rod was not in use; it leaned against the wall, so she brought it over and barred it across the window. Once again she curled the last hanger, this time around the rod. It was stable when she gave it a tug.
The candle was at the other side of the room as well. It was thin, and broke easily when strained in her hands. She took a small piece of the wax and pushed it into the very tip of the hanger wire, to keep it from scraping against the wall on the way down. Outside, it had started to snow. The Winter air was frozen and she knew she couldn't last long. She threw the tattered sheets down into a pile below her. They would not provide any decent warmpth but still more than her thin sweater and blue jeans alone.
It was time for the final test. She would face death here or risk almost certain death to escape.
