Middle School Miniature

Chapter 12, Step One

I waited. What else could I do?

I did try going back to sleep which, needless to say, didn't work in the least bit. Every black second felt like an eternity in the deathly waiting room of Charon. Centuries passed, or rather minutes, leaving me to toss and turn in the dark boring nothing.

I felt betrayed. I thought I was getting somewhere with Max, but apparently, he was just a first-class jerk and I was headed towards a life of captivity and manhandling. It might have even been better if my story ended up as a stereotypical 'hunted for experiments by the government' anomaly than this slowly tortured to death at the hands of a cold-hearted middle school guy. My chest ached again as I thought of family. Why am I so weak that I can be locked in a drawer and forgotten?

I shook my head violently. 'I've got to stop that kind of thinking. It has gotten me nowhere but boredom and staying stuck.' I told myself chidingly. A plan. I need a plan, I got up and started to pace, I always work better with a plan. So what? Step one: get out. But how? The first thing that came to mind was ramming the drawer in the hopes that it would open. I mean, do I actually know if I'm too weak to open it until I try? 

"What do I have to lose?" I said sourly to posterity. 

I took a couple of steps back and ran over the uneven ground, slamming my weight into the wooden wall acting as the front pannel of the drawer. It probably moved a millimeter, which was progress. Not much progress, but that sliver of light grew just a bit more. I stepped back and tried again, but instead, I jumped before ramming myself into the wall. It moved a bit more than last time. I tried once more, but it didn't move at all like the drawer had hit a snag. I pushed, punched, and kicked at the wall a few more times but it wouldn't budge.

I sat down in defeat, actually in de-socks, but at least I had light to see by now. The sock I was on right now had white lines on the gray fabric with a red checkmark design, the logo.

I don't know what you do when you're bored, but I kind of glaze over and just do silly things like tracing a checkmark with a dramatic arm extended, then flopping over, following the point, and dropping my arm over my forehead with a sigh.

I stared into space. My mind wandered over what-ifs and escape plans that wouldn't humanly work. Then I realized that I was looking at the space between the ceiling and the wall. It was a drawer, after all, not an actual holding cell.

Immediately I get up and jump for the lower side wall, catching my fingers on the edge and pulling with all of my might. I just needed a tiny boost, because I'm not a weightlifter by any means. I drag a sock over,  folding it to give me a stepping stool, giving me the height so I can put my palm on the edge, lift myself, and hook a knee over. There wasn't tons of room in between the ceiling and wall, but there was enough for me to slip through and hang over the other side where I got footing on the sliding rack for the drawer.

I could see light from an open drawer below. I looked down at the decently long drop from my perch. 

"Ugh," I intoned. "Why all the heights? Oh wait, I'm tiny, this is just going to be my new normal reality full of horrible big things to deal with. Why do you even have to deal Amelia? I'm so glad you asked Amelia, because we can't just sit on our but-"

I cut off arguing with myself because I ended up slipping on the metal rack that was only a bit bigger than my foot width. Great. My leg went down and I hit my arms hard on the metal while catching myself. My other foot slipped off and I was only holding on by an arm and a hand. That was starting to slip too thanks to my aforementioned lack of strength. I hung on by a hand, which was starting to cramp. I gritted my teeth and tried wildly to reach for a foothold. My lucky toes brushed against the top of the lower drawer. My hand lost its grip and I dropped onto the second drawer with my arms reaching out to keep me balanced and stop me from falling backward more. I did a more controlled repeat of the drop I had just performed and made it down to the third drawer. The impacts stung my feet and the whole ordeal reminded me that my front was still bruised, but I was free now since this last drawer was open and I had plenty of space to get through between the side and the front of the open drawer.

I walked out of the desk in a couple of prideful strides and stepped down onto the familiar floor.

After my last failed attempt, I learned that escaping the house would not be as easy as I hoped, but maybe with no one else here, I could walk out of this house with no problems. I started to walk victoriously towards the door to the bedroom.

But then I got to thinking...

If I exited the house as I was right now, I didn't know how to get anywhere safe and I had no tools to aid my survival. I need weapons to protect myself, food to live, and shelter. I needed to bring out my inner borrower here first and see what I could find.

~ hope you liked the little references there. Your author,
EMA