Story Time Again

Here's another story I wrote a while back.  This one was fun because the teacher put a prompt on the board, and he gave us about 10 minutes to write a story based on the prompt.  I ended up expanding and editing my story and it turned into this:

By the way, the prompt was:

The third bell rang and then…

            My muscles cramped in the tight space and I was getting light headed.  The smell of gym socks made my stomach to turn.  YUCK!  I tried to shift positions, but no matter how much I wanted to, I couldn’t move.  Luckily, a soft breeze drifted through the small slats in the metal door.  It was the only thing saving me from going nuts.

            “Dave,” came a squeaky voice, “Are you okay, man?”

            “Let me think…hmm…I’m stuck in a locker Brian.  NO I AM NOT OKAY!”  I was getting a kink in my neck and my shoes were glued to the Pepsi coated floor.

            “No worries.  I’ll get you outta there; just give me your combination.”

            I took a deep breath.  “16-11-32, and hurry up.”  I could hear him fiddling with the dial.  Time dragged on.  How long could it take to open a locker?

            “Um... I think it’s stuck.”

            Not now.  “It’s the freaking Pepsi I spilled yesterday.  You’ve just got to jiggle it a certain way.  Try again.”  People scurried past, trying to get to their classes, talking, laughing, shouting…no body seemed to notice or care that there was a freshman stuck in a locker.  But why would they care?  Things like this probably happened on a daily basis.

            “It’s no good, dude. I can’t get it to budge.”

            “Pull up slowly and then push it down hard.  It’s not that complicated” I said through clenched teeth.

            “Yeah, but I-”

            “What are you, an idiot?” I interrupted, my temperature rising, “I never thought you were too stupid to open a freaking locker! I’m going to run out of air any minute and all you can do is stand there.”

            “I’m-trying-to-help-you!”

            “And you’re doing a great job except…wait…I’m still in the locker!” I snapped.

He was silent for a moment.

“I’ve got to go to class.” He muttered bitterly.

            “What?”

            “I’ve got to go to class.” He repeated.

I was stunned. He wouldn’t really leave me here would he?  “Oh come on!  Just try the door one more time.”  He mumbled something I didn’t catch and started to leave. I panicked. “Brian.  BRIAN!  Don’t leave me.  I-I didn’t mean it!”

            “I’m gonna be late.” He said flatly.

The third bell rang and then, he left.  I could hear his footsteps moving away from the locker. No, please no!   

“Brian you weasel!” I yelled after him. The halls grew quiet. I was alone.  “Okay,” I told myself, “It’s okay.  You’ll be fine.  Someone is bound to walk by eventually, right?”  I tried to concentrate on my breathing. I’d never felt so claustrophobic. It was hard to keep myself under control.  This was torture of the worst kind.  I was reduced to a captive lump of flesh and sweaty gym socks.

How did I get myself into this situation?  I didn’t even know. I wish I could claim that some big mean bully had shoved me in here.  I wish I could claim that it had been a dare.  No such luck.  I put myself in this locker.  Not on purpose, of course.  One minute I’m trying to grab a paper from the sticky floor, the next I’m tripping into the locker as the door shuts on me. Yup, I’m that uncoordinated. 

Some would call it bad luck.  Me, I don’t believe in luck.  I do, however, believe in karma. When you do something rotten, it always comes back to bite you. Am I a bad kid?   I must’ve done something awful today, even before I insulted the one guy that could’ve saved me. Fate doesn’t just deicide to throw a guy in a locker for no reason.  I guess this means I need to change my ways.  Okay, okay, I’ll repent already. “Somebody let me outta here!”