The Bunker

By @ChloeB

The Bunker

By @ChloeB

This is the story of a young girl in 8th grade whose aim is to become popular, but things don't go as planned...

Chapter 2

Day One In The Bunker

I shot up almost out of breath and let out a scream. From what I could remember, I was kidnapped or was it just a dream? I frantically looked around and saw that I was in a small space the size of a master bathroom surrounded by four dirty cement walls. In the room was the bare minimum: a moldy toilet, a small sink with generic brand hand soap, a cramped porcelain tub, and the squeaky metal cot that I sat on. “There was no way for me to get out,” I thought. I examined the room, but there were no windows, no doors, no escape routes. There was only a small vent protected by a cover of metal bars, like in a jail cell, under the cot. I began to panic again as I screamed for help.

“HELLO! IS ANYBODY THERE?! SOMEONE, PLEASE HELP ME!” I started banging on the cement walls only to realize that I was not making any sound. The walls were too thick and most likely surrounded by dirt so no one would hear me…I was trapped. My body crumbled to the floor, and a small whimper slipped out of my mouth. I covered my eyes with my hands and rolled into a ball and continued to weep when my cries were suddenly interrupted by the sound of a door scrapping across the floor. I slid my fingers away from my eyes to peak at the intruder…it was my kidnapper. I covered my eyes again and froze as his heavy footsteps approached me.

“Well, hello. Welcome to the bunker. I am Dewey of course, and you are my permanent resident. What’s your name miss?” he asked.

I didn’t move.

“What is your name miss?” he sternly repeated.

I thought quickly. I wouldn’t give him my real name…I couldn’t. “My name is Abby Melville.”

“Hmm,” he mumbled as he rubbed his chin, “I suppose you’re hungry. Eat!” And with that, he threw a grocery bag filled with a week’s worth of food in my face, turned and left the bunker through a door which blended into the cement walls.

I slowly started towards the bag to look at its contents: a loaf of bread, peanut butter, jelly, five apples, a box of corn flakes, and three cans of string beans. I crawled back to the cot and brought my knees up to my chest. I had to find another way to escape. I didn’t know when he would be back so I began timing his arrivals each week for 3 weeks. He came to the bunker every Sunday with new supplies, so that would be my only time to escape, but how would I get through him? I had to think of a plan. 

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