THEMED THURSDAY!!!

Wee! I am so excited! This week Kelsey and I decided to go all short-story on yous. We came up with the line: After class, I was sitting the in the school bathroom when someone shut the lights off on me.

Now, I'm not saying that this happened to me on Tuesday, but the number one rule of writing is "write what you know." And I'll find you, you light-turning off monster!


Will to Survive
After class, I was sitting in the school bathroom when someone shut the lights off on me.
“Uhm, hello?! There is someone in here still!” I cried out in the pitch-black room. No one answered and the song “Mr. Cellophane” from Chicago swelled into my mind. How the hell am I going to get out of here? I was sitting in the third stall from the left on the third floor of the library. No one goes up here. It’s abandoned and that’s why I like it. I’m not saying I’m pee-shy, but an audience is not required for my every action. Hastily I readjust to be publically presentable, that is, if I ever make it back to the public. This school seriously needs to update the lights in here to sense motion. Groping around for the door lock, I find nothing. My eyes refuse to readjust in the darkness.

I’m going to end up living in this bathroom, which is a convenient place to be, given natural bodily functions, and I have a few granola bars in my backpack hanging on the hook in front of me. Usually, in a fight or flight situation, I opt for flight. It’s safer and less likely to cause me to flex my insane lack of muscle. But, there was the time I went camping with friends. I chopped wood and canoed like a lumber Jane. We, as animals, have a natural instinct to survive and mine was beginning to kick in. Yes, I could become a bathroom hermit. It will be a bit unsanitary, but life is messy. Feeling empowered I screamed at the forces of darkness that have trapped me here, “Bring it on bitches! I am ready to take you down!” Cue theme from Rocky.

As I jabbed the air with my fist, trying to float like a butterfly, sting like a bee, I smacked my shin on the toilet bowl. The pain brought me back to the reality that I am stuck in my library’s bathroom while I should be studying. Ugh, I should try to escape.

Slinging my backpack over my shoulders, I gently caressed the door from the top along the sides until I felt the cool, small metal lock in my right hand. Why didn’t I think of this sooner? I opened the door and, with my hands outstretched trying to find the wall, I slowly crept out of my stall/cave. After eons my fingers felt tile and I quickly threw myself against the wall, giving new meaning to “hugging the wall.” Gingerly, I slid along the wall, arms outstretched, hoping to find the door. Creep, creep, creep. I was so wrapped up in my thoughts, I barely noticed the sound of the door knob turning, but I did notice the blazing light now being emitted, with me, still hugging the wall, inches away from the door.
“Oh, sorry…I thought I heard screaming from the bathroom. Are you, okay?” asks a freshman girl who is giving me a rather quizzical look. I would have rushed over and given her a big hug, but I really needed to wash my hands. Survival is gross.