Count to ten

Ba-bump!

Ba-bump!

Ba-bump!

She stirred in her sleep, curled up with her legs to her chest before banging her head against the steel wall. That woke her up, for a moment she began to panic as no light entered the large container. Her hands waved in the air, sliding around the damp cold wall she sat against. No, this was bad, she was beginning to hyperventilate and the air around her began to feel thin. Her lungs were struggling, her chest began to hurt, which only encouraged her body to panic further.

Close your eyes, count to ten. We're safe, we're fine. It's just a nightmare.

After several moments, she began to feel her bare legs and feet surrounded by tiny itchy paper. Feeling for her neck, she held onto the amulet with a tight grip before listening to her heart. Crawling on all fours, she moved around before bumping into an odd shape, some sort of metal rod. She smiled and wrapped her tiny fingers around the grip, pushing it counterclockwise as light seeped around the circular hatch.

The safe parted enough for her to crawl out, kicking away any loose dollar bills that stuck to her feet. Falling back, she took a deep breathe and sighed peacefully, enjoying the sunlight shining down from the caved in ceiling above. For a moment she laid there, feeling its warm glow on her face and swinging her arms and legs around making a snow angel out of money. She yawned and rose to her feet, scratching her rear and adjusting the waistband of her undies, making her way down the room filled with cubicles left and right. So many offices, so many computers and telephones and no service to enjoy either.

She arrived at the public restroom and snatched a box of matches she left at a shelf beside the entrance, igniting a match in her fingers. Pushing the door open, she gently searched around for the numerous candles evenly scattered around the room, hovering the tiny glow of light on each one. There, with the restroom now lit, she approached the sink at the far side and dipped her hands into the bucket beside her feet, washing her face briefly. She paused and stared at the rusted mirror.

The figure staring back looked tired, miserable, and dirty. It was a girl in her early teens with a soft round face and dark chocolate eyes, messy dark hair depending on lighting, she remembered it looked brown under the sun. She brushed her fingertips below her eyes, wondering if that was dirt stains or freckles she was rubbing. She hoped for the latter but was certain it was the former. She sniffed and raised her arm, smelling herself and shaking her head.

Look at you, smelly and dirty and looking like poop. Your tanktop is all torn up!

She clicked her tongue as she inspected her top, seeing how many holes and stains it has before brushing her hair back. Her eye twitched as she pulled her hair over her forehead to check its length, the tip reached down to her chest by now. One inch longer than shoulder length. I need a shower, she thought to herself before exiting the room. In a moment she walked up the fire escape outside the building window, her hand sliding along the red painted handrail until she reached the rooftop. The place must have been under construction before everything happened, as several scaffolding sets were left abandoned along with a scaffolding tower with stairs to climb up. It led to an incomplete platform supported by steel beams, where a construction crane hovered nearby, it's hook being a few feet away. By the looks of it, the crane was attached to the top of another building, how the heck did people build that and not have it fall or crash onto other buildings?

She shuddered, hugging herself and planting her feet down. She wasn't worried as long as she stayed on the ground. She had made the most of her situation, leaving a dozen buckets around and a clothesline with several articles of clothing to dry. She stacked a pile of concrete mix bags to reach her clothes, feeling them for softness and warmth. Some of them still needed time to dry, but one button up gray shirt looked ready. She groaned, realizing this was a grown man's shirt and would look baggy on her. Putting it on, she huffed as it covered her knees. Pulling it off, she grabbed a pair of denim jeans and tried them in. The waist fit, but the legs looked like snakes swallowing her legs. Nothing a pair of scissors couldn't handle!

Now at the second floor of the building, she stretched her legs admiring the homemade short shorts on her while adjusting the roller skate gear on her kneecaps. Knee guards, elbow pads, and a bicycle helmet for safety. Reaching for her disney princess backpack, she arrived at shattered window and paused, feeling her heart rate increase.

Deep breath, you got this.

She looked into her backpack and fished out a utility flashlight, squeezing it in her small hand.

When I count to ten, I'll survive another day. When I count to ten, everything will be okay.

Ba-bump!

Ba-bump!

Ba-bump!

Ba-bump!

Ba-bump.

Ten.