Germ Infested Bed

[crabCaptain*]

Isabel opened her eyes to nothing.

TB2: Isabel Santana-Start

Well, nothing but funny smelling plastic balls anyway.

It was dark and chilly at the bottom of her little ball pit. She had a backpack on her back, she thought. It could have been some balls angled awkwardly against her spine, but she hoped it was a backpack. She rotated herself around in her rainbow colored cesspool and pushed herself up.

She lay on the surface of the colorful spheres and thought about where she was.

She was on a reality TV show set on a tropical island in the middle of winter.

Oh, and everyone was out to kill her.

She could have just laid there in the germ infested bed until someone just came up and claimed an easy kill. She could have jumped out to sea to die of hypothermia or just starved herself to death.

But she couldn't. She had something to think about.

SOTF. SOTF. SOTF. Repeating over and over in her head. She had never paid attention to it. She never watched it. It couldn't hold her interest or make her feel something. But now here she was, in the very place that hadn't crossed her thoughts even once. Waiting to be killed in front of an entire country, including her family.

Oh, God. Her baby sisters. They were going to see her die here. Laying here like some hopeless bum. A rotting corpse of their caretaker.

She had to get back to them, somehow. She had to be with them again.

Even if it meant coming back in a pine box, at least she would have died for them. Fighting.

She got up, pulled herself out of the pit and zipped open her backpack. A tan scrap of fabric with a bat printed on it was carefully folded and placed on top of the supplies within. She set it aside and examined the first aid box for any signs of an inhaler. Something to make sure she could keep breathing. Nothing. The cold air was going to give her an attack if she didn't think fast.

Fuck, I can't breathe in this air.

She picked up the tan cloth and tied it around her mouth and nose, western outlaw style and continued rummaging through the sack. Two t-shirts and a pair of pants. A condom?

O...kay?

A map, compass and flashlight as well as some food and water.

The last thing in the bag was what looked like some handles to a pair of gardening shears. She parted them to reveal a long sharp blade, about a foot long.

Off to a good start I suppose.

She folded the blade back up and set it aside.

After taking inventory Isabel stood up and looked to the nearest building. The daycare according to her map. Before she could take another step, she heard a struggle come from inside the daycare and a figure rushed out of the door  barely 15 feet away from her ball pit.

I think that's my cue to leave.

((continued elsewhere...))