The Pain of Escape

She pounded on the cold surface. It crackled under her fingers. Every stroke she fell reverberated around the tight enclosure and through her body. Trina could only hear the echo of her movements and her breathing in this cell. She clutched her hands to her chest that still quivered with the sound waves that had just shook her body. Her dilemma became clear to her. The cell’s material was cold and brittle. She felt a crack underneath her where she had kicked hard with her heavy boots. The question was how much did her freedom mean to her?

The force that it would take to break through her prison would simply be fed back to her as sound. She was essentially held prisoner in a speaker or drum. The repeated force that it would take to break out might also break her, specifically her eardrums. She clenched her fists and thought about the children hiding, waiting for her to come back. They waited everyday for her to tell them where to find safety and where to find food. They needed her. She made things just a little easier to survive. Wasn’t pain and possibly her hearing worth a few lives? She didn’t know what would happen to her after this. There might only be facing death, torture, or a more secure prison.

Trina could not believe that the Giants would ever let her go back. She had to find a way. She felt around and found the crack under her and stood. She put her hands over her ears and jumped slamming the heel of her boot toward the crack. She felt the material shift under her just before the force of the blow slammed back to her. She grit her teeth to avoid screaming. She shed her sweater and wrapped it around her head and covered her ears with her hands again. She located the weak point under her and jumped again. Three times before the first wave hit her back, bouncing around the cell wall. She huddled herself to the ground. Any extra bouncing would only be more force against her and not against the weak point.

She fumbled gently to the weak spot that gave under her fingers. She pushed until a piece cracked and gave way. There was space underneath. A faint light lit the floor underneath her. That was more than she hoped for. She adjusted her sweater to cover her eyes. The cell was dark and even that faint light hurt her eyes. She didn’t want to be momentarily blinded. She sucked in a breath and started her pounding. Her legs jarred against the floor.

Almost immediately the sound waves slammed through her body, but she didn’t stop, she squeezed her ears tighter and slammed her weight against the floor until her foot broke through. She felt something trickle from her nose. She couldn’t see it in the dark but she suspected it was probably blood. Her head was ringing and only her single-minded repetition assured her which way was down. She pulled her screaming leg out of the whole. She’d scraped through her pants and had removed a layer of skin from her shin.

She tucked her legs under her and pressed her weight to the weakest side of the hole. A loud crack rippled under her and she screamed as it was echoed painfully back at her even as she fell. It hit through her head like a baseball bat. She didn’t hear her own screams or the sound of her body hit the floor.

The silence snapped her out of her fog of pain. She wasn’t sure if that meant her hearing was gone or if the noise had stopped. She struggled to stand upright. Her body was pulled to the left and down whenever she tried to stand, but she staggered underneath a room full of black boxes suspended from the ceiling and she wondered if anyone else was inside them. She heard nothing as she staggered toward the light.

I used “crack” as my writing prompt today. 12 minutes. Pick a word and write. It’s fun. You’ll like it.

About the author

Carley Hibbert

I just finished writing my first novel The Villain's Assistant. I'm preparing to submit it to an interested publisher.

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