Escape

Waking Up

A/N: This will be in third person, but if you think it would be better in first person, let me know! I could also do second person, but I usually only do that for oneshots. Okayenoughtalklet'sgo... My computer hates italics and bold and stuff so when thinking the text will 'be done like this' and speaking will just be "done like this"

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Sam opened her eyes. Her head hurt, and the blinding light in her eyes didn't help. She was on her side. Beneath her was a cold, solid surface. The floor. Sam slowly got up. She didn't recognize her surroundings, and in fact, Sam realized, she didn't recognize anything about her life except for her name, age, and obviously the basics of a 16-year-old: How to walk, talk, eat, do math, write, dance, sing, paint, party, and most importantly, sleep.

She got up slowly. Her arms were a bit sore, and she had a large red mark on one of them. Looking around, she decided there wasn't much to see. The room was about the size of her bedroom. It had blank, white walls, several lights dotting the ceiling, and...

Sam walked over to the middle of the floor. There she saw three things. The first was a piece of bread about a foot long. She picked it up and smelled it. It seemed nice and fresh, but she wanted to make sure. Tentatively, she took a small bite and chewed. It was nice, doughy and warm, but she wasn't all too hungry. She put it down and moved on to the next item.

A bucket of water. Sam leaned forward, the tips of her hair brushing the surface. She jerked back, surprised, as ripples scattered across the once still surface. It looked good enough. She leaned forward and scooped some on her hand, bringing it to her mouth.

It was very sweet and refreshing, that much was certain. Samantha didn't know what could be in it, though, so she decided to worry about it later. There was still one more thing in the room.

One piece of paper. That was it. Just one. And only one word on it, too.

"Escape." Sam read out loud. What on earth did that mean? She had to escape this room? with bread, water, and a piece of paper?

Sam sat down and curled her arms around her knees, trying to calm down. She had to relax if she wanted to make sense of this situation. But no matter what she did, she couldn't. Her breath began to come in short bursts, as she was starting to panic. Sam got up, now feeling claustrophobic. She had to move. Getting up, Sam began to run. Around and around and around. Her arms pumped up and down and her hair bounced around her chin as she sprinted full out, desperate for fresh air.

'Wait a second.' Sam thought. 'If I haven't suffocated, where's the air coming from?' she slowed to a light jog, checking the walls. she saw nothing let, so she checked the floor. She found something, but not what she intended.

Sam crouched in the corner, inspecting the thing she found. The floor slanted slightly and led to a grate, behind which Sam spotted the beginning of a large pipe. Shuddering, she realized what it was for. However, after a brief thought, she decided she would rather use the bathroom there than anywhere else in the room.

'If I need to escape...' She thought, 'I should start getting anything I can.' Reaching to the grate, Sam tried to rattle it loose. It wasn't held on well, only with two large, loose screws.

'Interesting.' Sam wondered. 'It's as if whoever put me here wanted me to have it.'

Sam examined her fingernails. Most of them had gotten chipped, but three of them were still long enough. She lined up her nail with the screw and twisted her finger, slowly untwisting the screw. Sure enough, it came unscrewed after several tries. Repeating the process with the other one, she loosened the grate and pulled it away from the pipe.

Suddenly a screw escaped her fist and rolled down into the pipe.

"No!" Sam cried. She had intended to keep the screws. Even as she lunged for the screw, she knew it was too late. It rolled down, and a few moments later she heard a faint splash.

Sitting back up, Sam looked at what she gained. She had one, square-shaped grate that was slightly rusting, and an old, large screw.

Since the grate was rusty, Sam gathered that the room had been used before. Suddenly, as she was crossing back to the center of the room, she realized what the meant. Gasping, she dropped the grate in disgust. Thoughts coursed through her mind.

'That is so gross!' 'I need to keep it, though. I can use it.'

Gingerly, Sam picked up the grate with two fingers and dropped it in the center, which she, not so surprisingly, dubbed in her head 'The Center.' She shoved it far from the bread and placed the screw next to it.

Without warning, her stomach decided to make a noise similar to that of a dying whale. Technically she had never heard a dying whale, but she imagined the sound to be deep and gurgling.

'I suppose it depends if the whale is underwater or in the air.' She thought, picking up the bread. Pausing, she squinted at it. She was pretty sure she had taken a bite earlier, but she couldn't find any bite marks. No matter how impossible it seemed, it was true. The bread had somehow... Sam struggled to find the right word. Regrown? Sure, she decided, that would work. The bread had regrown where she had bitten off a segment.

That's when Sam learned the most important lesson there was to learn in this strange room.

Everything was important, but nothing was as it seemed at the first glance.