@guncontrcl
THERE’S A CHAIR IN THIS SMALL ROOM, and an even smaller window far beyond Sally’s reach. The door to the room is locked, and there was no way she was digging through the dirt floor to the other side. It would take too much time.
She needs the chair to reach the window …but she also needs the chair to break the glass. She has nothing on her person other than her phone, and she can’t decide if she can call 911 without tipping her “friend” off.
I’m so stupid, she said to herself. Why didn’t I just leave? Why did I agree to help?
She took a second against the wall, and let herself breath in and out. Five second count inhale; five second count exhale. Then …she came up with her plan. Call 911 quickly and make sure to whisper, and use her GPS on her phone to give location. Then use the chair to get up to the window. She would have to punch the glass with the last bit of strength her adrenaline gave her …but she could do it. Even if it meant having a bloody arm.
She dialed the phone …and then heard the knob of the door move.
She sank her phone back into her hoodie pocket, and gasped, grabbing the chair as quickly as she could and pulling it in front of her. The legs of the chair aimed at the man who came in through the door, and she snarled.
“Don’t get ANY closer!” She warned. “I will harm you.”
She took note of what the man looked like for her police report.
Tall; white male. Chiseled jaw; brunette …or a dark blonde perhaps. Blue eyes.
“Get back. Get back!”
