[ really, she should be more suspicious. really, she shouldn't be depending on the kindness of strangers. really, karen supposes, she should probably be dead. or have found her own way out. or done anything, at all, except sat here and let the water continue to rise around her legs, her knees. you're going to die here she remembers thinking, and then came his face.
it's the fear, she knows it is, but he's there and the urge to cry gets worse. the hope, the sheer, overwhelming hope that maybe this could actually work. and it seems to go well enough, he is reading the instructions closely, which makes her think he wants to help. that he might help her. karen pulls her free hand up to her mouth, trying to hold it together. she just needs to hold out a little longer, and then he nods, and the sob wracks her body a little bit at that.
I'll come back for you his phone says, and her shoulders drop, her eyes turn to his face. he has to leave, she knows he does to find the panel, but her stomach drops with it, anyway, at the realization he's leaving. that in order to do this, he's going to have to head around the back, out of her sight, and-
she bangs against the window before he leaves, just long enough to get his attention back on her. he can't hear her - she knows that sounds aren't making it through. but even so, she sets her hand flat against the window, and mouths slow enough that he should be able to understand.
thank you.
maybe it's naive of her to believe that easily in whoever this man is. maybe she should know better than to think some random man will actually dive right into the whatever is going on here. but she does.
it takes time- a normal amount, if she wasn't panicking. but with each passing second it feels like the water gets ten times higher, churning faster and faster. the faces get thicker, more present, don't face away, but Karen refuses to look at them. she leans her forehead against the glass instead, closes her eyes, tries to control her breathing. if anything like what is happening in here is happening out there, which she has to assume it is, then- god. did she just sent someone into a death trap? did she just kill him? she can't believe that. she has to believe he'll be fine. she has to.
that's when she hears it - a kind of beeping, electronic, and then something shifting into place. she backs up from the window, looking around, unable to believe it when she sees the light start to blink. and blink. and-
the window starts to open back up again, slowly but surely.
no subject
it's the fear, she knows it is, but he's there and the urge to cry gets worse. the hope, the sheer, overwhelming hope that maybe this could actually work. and it seems to go well enough, he is reading the instructions closely, which makes her think he wants to help. that he might help her. karen pulls her free hand up to her mouth, trying to hold it together. she just needs to hold out a little longer, and then he nods, and the sob wracks her body a little bit at that.
I'll come back for you his phone says, and her shoulders drop, her eyes turn to his face. he has to leave, she knows he does to find the panel, but her stomach drops with it, anyway, at the realization he's leaving. that in order to do this, he's going to have to head around the back, out of her sight, and-
she bangs against the window before he leaves, just long enough to get his attention back on her. he can't hear her - she knows that sounds aren't making it through. but even so, she sets her hand flat against the window, and mouths slow enough that he should be able to understand.
thank you.
maybe it's naive of her to believe that easily in whoever this man is. maybe she should know better than to think some random man will actually dive right into the whatever is going on here. but she does.
it takes time- a normal amount, if she wasn't panicking. but with each passing second it feels like the water gets ten times higher, churning faster and faster. the faces get thicker, more present, don't face away, but Karen refuses to look at them. she leans her forehead against the glass instead, closes her eyes, tries to control her breathing. if anything like what is happening in here is happening out there, which she has to assume it is, then- god. did she just sent someone into a death trap? did she just kill him? she can't believe that. she has to believe he'll be fine. she has to.
that's when she hears it - a kind of beeping, electronic, and then something shifting into place. she backs up from the window, looking around, unable to believe it when she sees the light start to blink. and blink. and-
the window starts to open back up again, slowly but surely.
it worked. ]