Runaway by @xomiragexo24 #NaNoWriMo
Runaway
Written by Jessica HarveyFollow @xomiragexo24
Blog: http://xomiragexo.blogspot.com/
NaNo Excerpt
It was time to figure out where I was. I backtracked to where I thought the main door to the room was and examined it. There was no push-bar, no handle, nothing to open the door with except for a circular piece with raised ridges and bolts at the center like you see in all those movies with submarines in them.
Weird.
I grabbed hold of it and spun the center until the door budged and gave way to a brightly-lit hallway. I had to blink a few times to get used to the change in lighting but eventually I could see enough to watch someone stare at me.
So I stared back at them.
This continued for a while. The man with blonde, short-cut hair titled his head a little in confusion but otherwise said nothing.
“Right,” I said out loud, hoping to weasel my way out of this. Clearly was I not only supposed to be wherever this was in the first place, but no one but him should have been in that room—whoever he was and whatever storage room that was. “I’ll be on my way now.”
I spun on heel and started to take off in the opposite direction.
“Hey wait!” he yelled after me.
“Sorry, I got to go.” I waved back at him over my shoulder.
Get out now. Get out and get out fast, I told myself, readying my bullshit meter for maximum. Handy skill gained from retail, that was. Well, that and having to write fifteen-page long Anthropology papers on cultural theory that could be totally and fully summed up in a single paragraph without missing a beat. Sure, you’d miss the nuances and ambiance of writing theory out, but who really cared about that bullshit anyways?
No one. And that’s why you had to bullshit your way to fifteen pages. And dammit, if I could do that, I could definitely get myself out of whatever mess I had just gotten myself into.
If I’m even to blame at all, which I’m still not even sure about.
My fast movements set off the nausea again, and I stopped to grab onto a wall to steady myself. I groaned. “Oh man.”
“Hey, are you okay?” the man asked, walking up to me.
I kept quiet, minus the nauseous groaning, opting for a shake of the head instead.
“Who are you?” he asked. “I’ve never seen you before.”
“Right back at’cha,” I told him, ever the sarcastic idiot, apparently.
“Seriously. You’re not supposed to be here, unless you are.”
I rolled my eyes. “Clearly.”