A young girl tunnels her way out of an orphanage.
She started one cold evening, and she dug for what seemed like days. With only a small pouch of food and a bottle of water to keep her going she dug. When she started to run out of both she knew that she would have to start digging upwards.
Because she didn't have anywhere else to store the dirt she had been moving, she just moved it behind her creating a small girl sized bubble.
As she started to dig up she could almost smell the fresh grass, the clean air, and freedom. She started to dig faster, as though it would be the last thing she would ever do. Her shovel hit something hard that made a 'tink' sound. She stopped. Heart beating a bit faster now. She thought of what it could be: a rock maybe.
She scooched into a semi-reclined sitting position with her back on the dirt. She couldn't see what she had it. She considered her options: try to dig around, that would take time. Try to pry whatever she hit loose.
She jammed her shovel towards the object. TINK.
She did it again. TINK.
She paused for a moment. Then came a single drip of water.
The water started to loosen the dirt. She wiped it away with her free hand. It was a pipe, brown and rusted with a small crack in it.
Her heart beat faster now and her breathing became heavy. The crack started to split open a bit more.
Drip, drip, drip.
The crack became a gouge, and the drip became a stream. The dirt at her feet became mud that she sunk into. She kicked at the wall trying to keep her feet out of the mud. Part of the dirt on the wall came down and pinned her legs in place. The water was up to her waist now. She dug at the dirt with her hands trying to get free. But where would she go? The muddy water covered her face now.
The last thing Sarah thought was her warm bed in the orphanage, and how she wished she was still there.