Short horror stories

Escaping

I had been kidnapped off the side of the road one night after heavily drinking. I had been tied up, beaten, and trapped for several days in an old basement. I was so drunk when I was kidnapped, so I had never seen where he had taken me. I could've been hours away from home, or even just ten minutes. I had no idea.
After being trapped for about two weeks, I had come up with an escape plan. I had managed to wear out the rope around my wrists after these two weeks of struggling. My wrists were of course bruised and bleeding, but it was worth it in order to escape. As soon as I was able to get my wrists free, I ran. I was so longer tied to a pole by my wrists and could figure out away out of there. I had no idea where I was or where I was going, but I just ran. I knew that I had to eventually find somebody who could help me.
Once I busted out of the basement using an old sledgehammer against the door, I ran as fast as my feet could take me, but that was before I realized where I was.
I was surrounded my ocean. Hot sand covered my feet. Somehow I was trapped on an island in the middle of the ocean with no where to run.