Saved by the Bra

I stepped out of the sunroom to the back patio and momentarily felt weightless, like I’d misjudged the last step on a staircase. As my stomach tumbled to my throat, I quickly looked down - but a sudden fog overtook my sense of sight. I squeezed my eyes shut during the brief moment of panic, followed by relief as the world steadied itself and I felt hard ground beneath my feet.

A quick glance around caused a lump to form in my throat; nothing in front of me made sense. Where there should have been 2 acres of the well-kept garden composing my backyard, there were nothing but trees. My feet were supposed to be on a concrete landing, but instead they pressed onto bare ground surrounded by nature. Goosebumps rose on my skin as a cold breeze swept across my arms and face. 

I plucked out a stick that was jabbing the bottom of my other-wise clean feet. I was confused; if I had walked there, my feet would have been filthy, but how in the world had I gotten into this forest if I hadn’t walked?

“Hello? Is anyone there?” I asked, but my question went unanswered. 

I rubbed my eyebrow with a fingertip, which was something I did absently from nerves. Fragments of questions tumbled around in my mind. Had I walked there and either cleaned my feet or hid my shoes? Why couldn’t I remember? Was I sleepwalking again? Or, maybe this was all a dream; although the latter would make for a reassuring and safe solution, I couldn’t make myself believe it. 

I glanced around in search of shoes or anything unnatural, but I saw nothing except shades of brown and green. Before I took off walking I tried to locate the sun above - to ensure I wouldn’t be going in circles - but a blanket of leaves separated us sans small cracks of sunlight that scattered across the leaves and brush.

Something scurried beside me and I took a step back - but instead of solid ground, my foot made contact with something hard and loose. I yelped and waved my arms to steady myself as I tumbled backwards, smacking the back of my head on what felt like a log. A golden flash lit up my vision followed by a brief moment of darkness. 

When my eyesight faded back to normal, I sat up. My skull throbbed intensely at the site of impact as I reached my hand to feel for any bumps or abrasions. Wincing,  I pulled my fingers off and saw blood on the tips. "Shit."

I needed something to press on the wound, but the leaves and matter around me were likely to be dirty and who knew how much bacteria they harbored. My dirt-smeared denim romper offered no solution either. I thought for a moment, then reached under my sleeve cuffs and pulled my bra straps down until they were freed from my arms, followed by the unclasping of the main strap.

I pressed one cup forcefully over the sliced skin of my scalp and tied the two unclasped parts around my forehead, then added more pressure with my fingertips. If those survivor shows could see me now, was a fleeting thought. 

The trees continued to stand tall and surround me, offering no aid in the right direction to get back home or at least leave the forest.

I wanted to move, but was scared to, as I no longer trusted the security of my steps. 

Out of the corner of my eye, something moved in the bush to my right. I shuddered, imagining all of the creepy crawlers who lived in wooded areas. The thought gave me a reason to push forward, so I picked the brightest path and started moving. That seemed to have been a good idea, because the farther I walked, the light became brighter. Was that the edge of the forest up ahead? I took in a breath of air and let it out slowly as relief poured through me. Then, on my next step, I felt the stab of something sharp, like a thorn, under the heel of my left foot.

"Ow!" I squeezed my eyes shut in pain as I lifted my foot, then felt an overwhelming sense of dizziness and stumbled forward. I was about to fall onto the ground for the second time and reached my arms in front of me to protect my aching head. But, the impact didn't come, not when it should have. I again felt the feeling of weightlessness as my body flew down, below ground level.

I smacked a hard surface about a dozen feet below ground. A sharp pain shot through my arm and I groaned as I rolled my body over to face upwards.

I was laying on a narrow wooden platform below the earth. No, not a platform; it was a box with 4 sides about 2 feet high, with one of the sides holding a lid straight open and pressed against the earth wall. I quickly sat up and then climbed to my feet. 

“Help!” I yelled out. Oh, please let there be someone nearby, “Help me!” I screamed as loud as I could, despite the pounding of my headache, threatening to explode. I applied counter pressure with one hand cupped around my makeshift wound dressing, and kept on. “Please! Someone! Help!” 

Something cold and crumbly hit my face. I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand and then looked down at my wrist to see dirt. "Where did that come-"

More dirt hit me, heavier this time with more force, making me crouch down and pull my arms over me in protection. "Stop! What the hell?"

I glanced up and could make out the shape of a shovel as more dirt hit the top of my head, forcing my face to point downward again.  "Stop! Help me! Why are you doing this?” I pleaded and went to stand back up, but before I could, I felt something hard and metal push down against my shoulder blades, knocking me to the ground. Why had they hit me with the shovel?

I crouched on my hands and knees and tried to stand back up before I felt something hit my back, once again knocking me down. There was a creaking sound and a loud bang only inches from my head. I didn’t know what had happened, but suddenly, everything was much quieter and muffled. I needed to get to the side and search for anything solid in the earth I could use as a way to climb out, so I tried to push back up to my knees and hands but I couldn't - something was stopping me. 

Alarms went off inside of my head and my breath caught in my throat. Why was someone doing this to me? On my belly, I pushed my good arm underneath me - the other was still throbbing - as my back slid against the solid surface above me and I squeezed myself around to face upwards.

My eyes widened in horror at the realization of what had pushed me down. I should have already guessed, but my throbbing head made it hard to think. 

"No. Oh my god. Help!"

Anxiety ran through my veins like blood, with each heartbeat carrying the panic closer to my chest. I pushed against the lid with my good arm as hard as I could. Why wasn’t it budging? I didn’t see any lock or bolt keeping it in place.

Thankfully, the top wasn’t completely solid wood, as there were small one to two inch spaces in between the planks that I could sort of see through. That’s when I noticed there was a solid object obscuring the view above my thighs and knees that looked to be a large rock. I pushed harder but the lid didn’t move any higher than a few millimeters at most. My stomach lurched and my mind flashed back to my worst memory - being trapped in an unreleased pop up camper during my 10 birthday party. 

We had been playing hide and seek and while looking for the perfect hiding spot, I clocked the small door leading into my neighbor’s camper. The kids who lived there were also playing hide and seek, so their property was fair game. The pop-up camper was folded down so there was only enough space for me if I went in head first and laid on my back, then pulled my knees to my chest. Once I reached my hand to close the door, I waited, giggling to myself as I could hear other kids being found, until I was the only one left. I let them sweat it out for a few minutes but I was too eager to show them my spot and my legs were getting a cramp, so I reached my arm between my knees and turned the door handle. It didn’t budge. I tried again and again, then I started kicking the door with both feet.  

It turned out to be quite the perfect spot to hide, since it took 45 minutes before anyone found me - and that was only because I had escaped. All of my birthday guests and our neighbors were out searching and somehow, no one could hear me yelling or pounding on the door with my feet. Finally - and I’m not sure how I managed after all of that time - I used every bit of strength I had left to kick the door with full force, and it opened. 

The entire rest of my life had been affected by that day. I couldn’t even sit in a bathtub and any situation where I couldn’t move my arms and legs freely around me, I freaked out. My parents bought a full sized camper a few years later and I was given the top bunk. I was only on that bed for 10 seconds before I had a panic attack and had to sleep in my parent’s bed - at 14 years old. The camper was sold at the end of the summer because I refused to sleep in it again. 

That’s what I was thinking back to as I laid there, trapped - but for what reason? I had no idea why someone would want to do this to me. Kicking up once with my feet, I grimaced from the pain against my toes. There wasn't enough room to gain any momentum to the solid wood. I inhaled and exhaled unevenly, in gasps, and felt like I was crawling out of my skin. 

"Help! Anyone!" I yelled again. My eyes stung as tears mixed with the dirt around them and I rubbed my eyebrow furiously. 

I screamed and screamed some more until I had nothing left. My body shook and I cried as my eyes darted around searching for any possible escape. This couldn't be real, this couldn't be happening.

This had to be a dream.

"Wake up!" I yelled to myself. I pinched my leg and my face, glad that I had enough room at least to move my arms. I didn't want to think of the alternative. I became aware of my full bladder and my tongue ran along my dry, cracked lips. I could feel everything. This wasn't like any dream I'd had before.

My coffin - which is what I might as well have been in - seemed to be getting smaller as I considered the possibility of me never leaving this spot in the forest alive. Someone would probably find me eventually, I figured. But how long would it take? Was there rain in the forecast? All it would take was a little bit of rain and I'd never go back home, I'd never see my parents again, or Rose.

Rose. Surely she would go looking for me. Had she seen me come out to the woods? I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to remember my walk to the forest, but the last thing I remember was seeing her in the backyard as I opened the sunroom door to join her, before waking up to this nightmare.

I needed to think. What could I do? I was never going to bust anything open with the rock pressing down on the wood above my knees. Plus, due to my position, I was unable to use the strongest muscles of my legs. I thought of the supplies I had on hand, which were none. Wait, I thought. I did have one, and that one had saved me earlier.

The bra was still fastened around my head. I untied the straps and did a half-crunch to stick one in between the crack on the far side of the rock. I then pushed it slightly to slide down the adjacent crack. I shimmied the cups through the hole and started pulling the bra towards me, but it slipped under the rock. If I could just get the padding behind the rock, I could give it a little pull, and move it away from my legs. 

I tried a few more times but I wasn’t getting enough control of the bra to get it in the right spot. An exasperated cry blew from my lungs and I was about to give up when I felt the rock start to move towards me with my pull and I didn’t let go. Soon, the rock was pulled up directly over my head. I ignored the increased claustrophobia of not being able to see above me and kicked my legs in excitement. I winced as my knee hit the wooden lid. Then I stopped. Was that a crack I heard and felt? 

I let go of the strap and reached my hand up to feel where my knee had contacted the wood. I felt a few small cracks that had to have gotten there from the rock being dropped. I hit my knee on it again, but the pain was almost unbearable. 

I considered the possible ways I could position myself to give that spot the most force. Then, I slid myself around onto my stomach, scooted all the way towards the head of the box, laid flat and then bent my knees so my lower legs were as straight up as the space would allow. 

“Argh!” was the sound I made as I kicked up with full force. 

Crack.

Tears streamed down my face as I kicked again, breaking open the box. I didn’t know what I would do to climb up once I got out, but I could focus on that in a minute, I just needed to get out of the enclosure. 

Curving myself into an almost-unnatural position, I shimmied out of the box legs first, scraping up my skin on the jagged edges. I finally stood up straight once I got out and started yelling again, but wearily, as I didn’t want the person who’d locked me in there to come back to finish me off in a different way. 

I felt around for something solid to climb, when I heard the sound of leaves crackling above me. I froze. There was nowhere to hide. 

Then, a familiar voice broke through the air, “Fargo? Is that you?” 

I gasped.  “Rose! Rose! Down here!” 

Her face came into view above and a million butterflies filled my insides as I realized that I would be okay. I was actually going to be okay!

Rose leaned her head in towards me. “How in the world did you get down there?” She then stood up and disappeared for a moment that felt way longer than it was, before reappearing with the shovel. She leaned the tip of the tool towards me, and I flinched, covering my head. Had it been Rose that whole time? Was she going to hit me with it again? 

“Please, no!”

“What? I’m not going to hurt you. Here - grab the end.”

I blew out my breath and grabbed the end of the shovel. There were a few rocks poking out that I could balance one foot on as Rose pulled me high enough to climb out. 

Rose’s eyes widened as she took in my disheveled and injured appearance. “Are you okay?” She must have noticed the dried blood down my neck because she put her hands on my shoulders and gently turned me around. “That looks really bad on the back of your head, Fargo. We need to get you to a doctor.” 

The anxiety and fear I had felt just minutes before escaped out of me in the form of tears pouring out of my eyes. “Someone locked me in down there. I was trapped. Someone tried to kill me.” 

Rose walked over to the edge and looked down. “They locked you in? How?”

I carefully and slowly walked towards the hole and pointed down, but when I looked, there was nothing but solid ground at the bottom. “What in the hell?” I furrowed my eyebrows and shook my head. “There was a box, like a coffin but not, and someone threw a rock to close it and then I couldn’t get out and I was screaming and couldn’t get up and-”

Rose pulled me into a hug. “It’s okay, it’s okay. You probably have a concussion. Let’s get you out of here.” 

Maybe she was right and the whole thing had been in my mind. Falling into a hole paired with a head injury could have ignited my childhood trauma and had me believing I was somewhere I wasn’t. It didn’t seem right, though. If my concussion was from hitting my head, how had I forgotten coming to the forest before my fall?  

Rose glanced down the pit one more time. “Fargo?” She asked. 

“What?”

She pointed below and looked at me with concern and a small amount of amusement. “Is that your bra strapped around a rock?”