Plot Challenge: Impossible To Leave

Diana

LOOK HOW CALM SHE IS
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MYTHICAL MEMBER
Invitation Status
  1. Not accepting invites at this time
Posting Speed
  1. 1-3 posts per week
  2. Slow As Molasses
Online Availability
10AM - 10PM Daily
Writing Levels
  1. Adaptable
Preferred Character Gender
  1. Female
Genres
Romance, Supernatural, Fantasy, Thriller, Space Exploration, Slice of Life
PLOT CHALLENGE

Plot challenges are designed to help you think quick and be inspired. We often play this game in the cbox, shouting out random words or phrases and see what ideas first pop in to people's heads.

To Participate: THINK FAST. Don't waste any time. The first idea(s) that comes to mind, write it down and post it!

NOTE: If you decide to borrow someone's concept for a roleplay, make sure you give credit.

Challenge Phrase
Impossible To Leave
 
The room he woke up in had only a trio of 3 inch vents, a recessed light, a bed, toilet, and a shelf, all fastened to the wall in such a way as to prevent escape. There was not even a door. How did he get in here? How could he get out? So far, he saw, it was impossible to leave.
 
The room without windows, the hall without doors, the world without sky, the sea without ocean. How does one get beyond the veil or reality to these alien worlds? The room without thought, the hall without walls, the sky without stars, and the ocean without water. Once there, is it impossible to leave?
 
A tour boat is taking it's maiden voyage with a small group of the social elite. Their destination, Bermuda. But midway there they get caught in a storm and find themselves on an uncharted island, their ship smashed to pieces. The waters off the coast are rough, and shoals abound. With no way off the island, how will these socialites, so accustomed to being waited on hand and foot, survive?
 
They say the underground railroad goes straight to Canada. They say Canada is the land of freedom. But for one slave, it's impossible to leave, not because he/she has no way, that's for sure. There's a carriage leaving tonight! But will his/her forbidden love for the master/mistress prevent him/her from leaving? Is it really impossible to leave without suffering heartache?
 
The old mansion, everyone avoids it. The screams that come from it nightly teroeise the town. The creatures the comeout of it during full moon leave fear and bloodshed in thier wake, but th townpeople stay, It is impossible to leave.
 
It traps you. Like a dragon's claws, it pins you. Presses you into the ground, leaves you begging to be released. It shows you horrors. It leaves you terrified of the world, of others, and of yourself.

And it is impossible to leave the confines of your own head.
 
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Somehow our plane managed to land in this crazy storm without crashing thanks to an excellent seasoned pilot. This was the final destination for most of the people on the flight but not me. I was supposed to catch a connecting flight hours ago for home.

I claimed my baggage and went to hail a taxi, having been told there were no more flights leaving that night. When i stepped outside i was greeted with an icy blast of snow and wind that sent me right back inside. Peering out through the windows I saw nothing, no cars, no lights, nothing. Figuring a storm this fierce would more than likely blow through pretty quickly, I decided to make my way tot he food court for something to eat. I chose a nice little burger place and ordered a double with fries and a large cola. I watched the snow swirling but could see not more than a foot or two. Being from Florida this was quite a sight for me.

I wasn't ready to give up hope of getting home before Christmas though, at least not until I heard the PA system come to life. "Passengers in the Terminal areas, please be advised the state of Wisconsin has issued a no travel ban, and there will be no transportation to or from the airport until the ban is lifted. There are blankets and pillows available at the TSA checkpoints for your use. We apologize for the inconvenience. Happy Holidays."

"Yeah, Happy Holidays..."
 
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She stared at the open door ahead of her. He wasn't home right now. He was away at work. She could leave. She could pack up everything she ever owned and walked out into the street, make for the nearest hotel, and stay there. Marianne gripped her forearm, eyes locked on that front door, open to the rainstorm raging outside. Her hands lingered about her belly, mind wandering.

What if he found her? He loved her, but did he love her that much? To stay his hand in a fit or rage?

She looked down at her bare feet, toes curling into the apartment's 70's era carpet. She swallowed hard.

I have no friends. I haven't talked to Mom and Dad in years. I wouldn't even know where to find them, and all I've got - I've only got 300 dollars. That's not even enough for one night in a hotel.

She looked behind her at the kitchen, the dishes finished but not put away, the table a wreckage of life's little shipwrecks. Bills splayed out like a pale fan, half-eaten snacks left there to crumble and grow stale, little baubles and pens and screws leftover from half-finished projects laying about. Her eyes tracked back to the open door.

It seemed to invite her, lovingly, gently. Leave.

And the thought genuinely frightened her. For the first time in a long time, she considered it seriously. She remembered, in the beginning, she had had the thought so many times, though he quelled it with a shower of apologies, whole bouquets, boxes of peppermint Hershey bars. Then he began to threaten to kill himself, even kill her, but did he really mean it? Would he really? He loved her. He did.

He loved her.

She walked to the door, grasped the handle, and she closed it, heading back into the kitchen to clean the house before he got home.
 
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