Spoiler
IMAGINE THAT TWO PEOPLE ARE TRAPPED OVERNITE IN A SAFE.
ITS A LARGE SAFE BUT NEVER THE LESS A SMALL, CRAMPED, STIFLING PLACE FOR TWO PEOPLE.
YOUR TASK IS TO DECIDE:
-WHO THESE TWO PEOPLE ARE
-HOW THEY CAME TO BE IN THE SAFE
-WHAT THEIR RELATIONSHIP IS TO ONE ANOTHER
-WHAT IT IS LIKE TO SPEND THE NITE IN THE SAFE
-WHAT THEIR EMOTIONS ARE UPON BEING RESCUED
ITS A LARGE SAFE BUT NEVER THE LESS A SMALL, CRAMPED, STIFLING PLACE FOR TWO PEOPLE.
YOUR TASK IS TO DECIDE:
-WHO THESE TWO PEOPLE ARE
-HOW THEY CAME TO BE IN THE SAFE
-WHAT THEIR RELATIONSHIP IS TO ONE ANOTHER
-WHAT IT IS LIKE TO SPEND THE NITE IN THE SAFE
-WHAT THEIR EMOTIONS ARE UPON BEING RESCUED
Darkness. Dark darkness. Nothing more, nothing less. There’s no reason for me to complain about it. It was quiet and peaceful. And fairly relaxing. But, as one usually does in their sleep cycle, there comes that time where one must wake up from the land of nod and return to that bitch we call ‘reality’. Squirming and turning like one does, slowly coming out of comfort into waking consciousness... realising the bed is colder and harder than it once was. Not to mention how stiff one must feel. That’s pretty strange. Starting to squirm and stretch my limbs out to feel that strangle pleasure of stretching your arms and legs after a long time, only to find... a cold hard wall beside me... Curious, I open my eyes to see what’s going on, quickly forcing myself away from the darkness I previously knew were the inside of my eyelids, only to find... not much has changed.
This is peculiar, I thought. There is nothing but darkness, the bed is cold and hard, the wall is cold and hard,...
Curious I try to sit up... BUMP! Good work, idiot. Even in the dark, you’ve managed to find the ceiling. The hard ceiling. The cold, hard ceiling. The low, cold, hard ceiling...
This is not my roof, I thought. This is not my room. Either I’m dreaming and I just woke up from a dream-within-a-dream, or I’ve had a growth spurt.
But no, I couldn’t have had an instant growth spurt. If I did, then how the heck did I get here? So I was able to tell that this was not my room. So I could safely assume that I wasn’t sleeping in my bed either. Brilliant! You know you’re a top bloke if you can tell you’re not in your bed! Or a woman. Or a princess... or was that just for finding a pee under a gazillion mattresses? More or less irrelevant; I’ll come back to it later. Just as soon as I’ve figured out where I am... or how I got here.
Figuring this out the hard way, I have discovered now that there is just enough room to sit up in; knees to my chest to save space.
The ceiling, like I said, is low. Sitting up now, I could probably draw pictures on it. That is, if I had a freaking marker and a God damn light. No, no... make that a God damn marker and a freaking light; I desperately need a freaking light more than I need a God damn marker.
Would be so much nicer too, to be able to shine a light into a corner and say, “This space is 50 foot high, 50 foot long, 20 foot deep, and other measurements that would be considered extremely relevant.” But no. The only useful information I have is that I can touch the roof with the parietal of my head. There’s about enough room for me to lie down in and there’s enough space beside me for another human being. At least, I think there is. But in this dark, confined space, I am not going to take any chances.
All of a sudden, the roof opened up, giving a blinding light. I squinted, covering my eyes from the blinding light. The only thing I thought I could hear was a high pitched voice; like someone being pushed in, a small thud, and then darkness once again. Silence. Except another set of breathing. This time, a scared, high-pictured panting. Who was there? Was it human? Where they friend or foe? I couldn’t tell. I stayed as still as I could, hoping the other ‘person’, thing... hoping IT wouldn’t hurt me.
A light came on. I squinted for a bit, but then slowly took my hand away. If this person has a light, I thought, they must be friend.
Slowly taking my hand away, I slowly realised what it was. It was a girl, no older than me. She had a little torch which illuminated the entire space.
I quickly took this opportunity to survey my surroundings. It was nothing more than it felt - a cold stony space. I could only feel that there wasn’t enough room. I didn’t need a visual to confirm my trapped state.
I took a look at the girl. Then I quickly recognised her. I knew her. It was Lucy White, a friend of mine. Well, we were friends when we were children and in school. Obviously we’ve both grow up, since she has tits now. She was scared, lying on the floor like she has been dropped in. Which she had just been anyway.
I knew I had to do something to cheer her up, so I quickly tried to think of something funny to say.
“You’re trapped, Spider-man. Trapped in this enormous bath,” I managed to joke.
With a look of fear in her eyes, she glared at me. “What the fuck kind of sick fucking joke was that for?” she hissed.
“What? Don’t fucking go off at me, you little bitch!” I replied.
“Ooh, you always were in insensitive one!” she hissed again.
“Or maybe you’re just the sensitive one!”
“You think this is funny, do you? Do you even know where you are?”
She had a point. I didn’t exactly decide to shut myself in a stoney cold environment for the night. I didn’t think sleeping on a stone hard floor was much fun at all. To tell you the truth, I don’t even know how I got in here in the first place.
The last thing I remember was I was driving down a country highway in my car. So how on earth I could’ve gotten from there to here was something else. The only possible explanation for this was that I had gone insane and locked myself in the boot. Or I’d been drugged and kidnapped and locked in the boot. Yeah! That was is. I’m in my car boot...
This CAN’T be my boot. The floor, the walls, the roof... I know my boot. There’s carpet on the floor, and everything’s not so flat. This was a box. A stoney, cold box.
“No actually, I don’t,” I replied, finally grasping the situation, deciding that trying to look on the bright side in this situation with this woman; this incredibly camp woman, was not the best thing to do. “Why? Where exactly are we?”
Lucy White had calmed down. She had probably decided that arguing with me wasn’t really the best option either. “It doesn’t matter,” was her reply. “All I know is that if you don’t get out of here, you’re going to die!”
“ME?” I asked. “What about YOU? You’re in here as well.”
“Who gives a shit about me?” was her reply.
“Well, I bet lots of guys! You’re cute, you’re hot, you’re sexy, everything I’m not, so why the fuck would you rather have me out of here and not you?”
“Because unlike you, I’m not trapped in here!”
Holy shit, I thought. Of all the people I could’ve been stuck in here with, I had to be stuck in here with Lucy White. It’s strange that she was acting all bonkers like this. She was usually the smart one.
The truth is, Lucy White was a braniac. A genius. She started school 2 years before the normal age and had completed year 12 at 16, but didn’t start university until she was 18 in order to not mindfuck up the education system; her egotistical way of saying ‘I’m 17 and out of school, bitches!’ But you really think she’d just rub it into you and leave it at that? Oh, no! As if to try and add salt further into the wound just for the fuck of it, she spent her two years off tutoring others her own age; people whom she would’ve shared the same grade with if she’d hadn’t gone into the education system ahead of everyone.
Don’t get me wrong - I’m not mad; just a little jealous that a girl with that much intellect and potential can date such fucking inbred jocks one after the other. You’d think she’d have SOME sense in her when it comes to that, given her intellectual capacity, but after looking at some of the guys she’d dated, you kinda think: “Nope, she’s lost it.” Dating someone 2 years older than you is kinda creepy in teenage years. In the every day adult work, it’s OK to date, marry or even fuck someone with at least 4 and a half years age difference. Nothing wrong with that if you’re an adult. But when you’re a teenager, 2 years difference??? Please, it would be better to be caught fucking your own sister. Although being an only child, I sometimes wish I could fuck my sister, just so I could know not only intimacy with my family on a much deeper level, but what is more important, intimacy with a girl. Most people would put 2 and 2 together and ask me “Why don’t you go out with Lucy then?” Truth is we did once. Kinda. She was my tutor. I was lagging behind in maths, and she said she would help (for a small fee, of course).
It was algebra; the worst kind. A letter’s way of saying “You must not only read me, but you must count me as well.” My oh my, basic Latin alphabet, I’ve forgotten how much of a cunt you really are. In a world where 2 equals 2 and 4 equals 4, you, my dear x have to equal something completely different every single day; from as simple as 0 to as complicated as the square root of pi divided by q h-and-a-half times by l. Yesterday it was 5, today it was 108, and tomorrow it’ll be Lucy Brown.
Yes, she was there to work and help me up my grades so that hopefully one day, I could be as smart as her. I’d be able to tell my sweet x to divide by 2 and calculate f until it equaled a satisfying o, simply because I was finally able to work out for myself what my sweet x was worth to me,... but soon as we made eye contact,... it didn’t matter anymore. There was no need for x to interfere now. It was just us now. What had begun as a simple algebraic tutoring session turned into another kind of tutoring session. ‘Algeic’, I liked to call it, because there was no need for ‘bra’.
[to be continued]
