By Emily Hutnyak
“It’s hopeless,” I moaned to the windowpane.
Rain trickled down outside, like the glass was sobbing sympathetically. A small comfort, but I didn’t really want company in my misery. What I needed was time and inspiration. The window could give neither.
I’d tried using it for inspiration already, but there’s usually a severe lack of windows in dungeon cells. It couldn’t be used as an escape route.
I only had five days to get Princess Veronica and her trusty sidekick Anne out of the jail cell the King had put them in. Five days to find a way for Veronica to prove she wasn’t an illegitimately born imposter and win back her place as the heir of the royal family.
I grabbed my notebook and held the scribbled-over pages close to my face, trying to decipher my half-legible notes in the dim lighting.
Five days was barely enough time if everything had gone right. Maybe.
But in writing copious notes and possible plans, I’d forgotten I’d designed the prison to be a little too inescapable. Even if the girls managed to make it past the iron door and somehow slip the chains off their ankles, there was a pair of guards stationed outside with orders to kill escapees. And there was no time to go back and leave loopholes.
Huffing, I stood and paced the dark confines of my own dungeon, tapping the notebook with a pen. Anne did have a knife hidden in her boot, but what good would that be? Neither girl had lock-picking skills; killing a guard was something only Anne’s treacherous mother would do.
Perhaps some fresh air would help me think. I strode to the window and yanked it open far enough to stick my head out. Raindrops pattered against my face. The smell of the rain only sharpened the freshness of the cold fall wind.
Wet leaves stuck to the sidewalk and blew by in the misty air. If only my quest didn’t have me chained to my prison cell of a room, I’d gladly be dancing in the rain and puddles, leaving Veronica and Anne to face their problems alone.
But I was no quitter. I’d committed to the challenge, gotten the girls into this mess, and I was going to get them out, even if my brain felt like pumpkin pie filling.
A fresh blast of icy air blew the rain into my face, and I gasped as the water splashed onto my windowsill. I tugged the window closed and mopped up the pooling water with my sleeve. No more fresh air for me.
I returned to my pacing and pointless brainstorming—this time with dripping hair—but I’d taken no more than two steps before my foot caught on a pile of books. With a yelp, I crashed to the ground, landing on the sharp corners of the volumes I’d just kicked over. Sitting up with a groan, I squinted in the low light, trying to clean up the mess.
Click. Light blinded me as the door swung open.
“Mikayla, are you okay? Why’s it so dark?” Mom asked, peering into the black hole of my life.
I winced. “Well, I… was kind of trying to make it, um… feel like a dungeon.” All my efforts vanished as Mom clicked on the lights. My room was back to looking cozy and inviting… or more like boringly normal and safe.
I sighed as Mom crouched next to me and started stacking up the books. “I’m stuck again.”
“I can tell. What’s the issue this time, honey?”
Flopping back on the carpet, I groaned. “Veronica and Anne are in the prison cell, and I don’t know how to get them out. I made the dungeon too hard to break out of. I only have five days left to win, and I can’t get to the end if Veronica is rotting away in prison!”
To her credit, Mom didn’t laugh. She merely settled on the floor next to me and stroked my forehead. “I know you’re determined to win NaNoWriMo, but if you need to take a break, that’s okay. Winning isn’t the most important thing in the world.”
“I really want to finish. I just have a few thousand words left.”
She stood and smiled down at me. “Well, how about you get up off the floor, get your shoes on, and we can go discuss the newest plot hole over a cup of coffee? The coffee shop might not have a dungeon atmosphere, but—”
I was on my feet before she could finish her sentence and cut her off with a fierce hug. “You’re the best.”
She laughed. “I love you too, my crazy writer daughter.”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Ah, the travails of a writer! Short of just killing them off, they need an ingenious escape. I enjoyed this, Emily!
absolutely perfect!
Maybe Veronica and Anne should trying singing? Worked for Paul and Silas.
I guessed this was an online D&D challenge. This idea was way better.
WOAH!! What a twist at the end there! I totally was imagining the POV character to be actually in a dungeon in a fantasy world, but nope! Huh, very thought-provoking indeed, the way she thought about her characters as if they were real people.
I enjoyed the way you made this tale so relatable to writers. Excellent work, friend!
two of my favorite lines:
– “Rain trickled down outside, like the glass was sobbing sympathetically.”
– “…even if my brain felt like pumpkin pie filling.
Ahhhh NaNo! A great one! Thank you for sharing :)
Emily, I enjoyed your story.
Fun!
What a sweet portrayal of the annual turmoil!
My favorite solution…”When last we saw our heroes, they were (in a corner with no way out). But naturally, they escaped, unharmed!!”