Goal

Get out of the mine shaft

Conflict

Heather is trapped in a mine shaft

Disaster

Heather needs someone to help her get out of the shaft

Emotion

Heather feels stupid that she fell into the shaft 

Thought

Everyone will know she's trash

Decision

If she wants to make it back to the party in time to make any money, she needs to yell to get out

Action

She shouts for help 

 

Heather's body sprawled across the rocks and debris that littered the floor of the mine shaft. For a moment, she thought she'd died, but a sharp pain in her ankle shot adrenaline through her body and she opened her eyes. A quick extremity check reassured her that there was no gaping hole on her body and as far as she could tell, no serious injuries threatened certain death. A wiggle of her foot produced pain, but it wasn't broken. She remembered standing at the edge, but why had she fallen in? "Who pushed me?" She spoke aloud as she stood. The darkness at first seemed complete, but soon her eyes adjusted, using the sparse light from the shaft opening 50 feet up to take in her surroundings. There was an opening to what she assumed to be rest of the mine, but it had collapsed, leaving a small enclave of only a foot deep. Her phone sat on a rock in the enclave. She reached for it and pressed the power button. Veiny blue-white cracks covered the glass face. "Great," she sighed. 

She shone the light from the phone to illuminate her surroundings, hoping to discover some sort of ladder or even a rope. The walls of the shaft that once housed an elevator had been washed clean from years of heavy rainfall. Remaining pieces of the wooden frame barely clung to the walls. She grabbed at one piece a few feet above her head, but her fingers sank into the rotten wood. The mush fell from her hand into her open mouth. She stumbled back, spitting and cursing. 

Her skin crawled at the possibility of finding the remains of some other unfortunate soul. "No," she thought to herself, "other people had friends that eventually go looking. Nobody'd miss you, Heather." The Stricklands would assume she was flaky and eventually her bar would be cleared out and sold for a steal and her parents' trailer would be invaded by local hoodlums and wild animals. She imagined her underwear drawer being sifted through and gawked at, her granny panties clear evidence of her sex life, or rather lack of one. The thought lit a fire in her to get out, at least to get rid of the underwear drawer and clean up a bit before the hoodlums moved in.

She dialed 911, at least where she last remembered the position of the numbers - but paused before she pressed the green mosaic blur. An image filled her mind of cop lights interrupting the party and all of the guests surrounding the mine shaft as a hero cop pulled her to safety. Her stomach turned.

She'd be in the paper as the stupid girl from Hyde Park that fell into the mine. Most would assume drugs. The mine would have to be closed off from the public and the Strickland project put on hold. She'd never get paid. The thought of hoodlums pilfering through her underwear, holding them up and laughing at her misery didn't seem as bad as having her picture in the paper as the dumb girl from Hyde Park that fell into a mine shaft. They'd see her picture and tell each other how lucky they were for not growing up surrounded by drugs and poverty, congratulate themselves for their fortune. She'd be their muse.

If she wanted to make any money from the party, she needed to get out before it was over. She didn't know how long she'd been down here, but Elizabeth Strickland had already told her she'd dock her pay and Heather couldn't afford to not make the money. She needed to get out. Now.

 Heather clicked the phone screen off and looked up. "Help," she spoke at first. She'd never had to yell for help, and it felt completely foreign to her. "Help," this time louder, bounced off the walls above her. She felt like an abandoned dog must feel, barking incessantly to be untied, unable to stop - not accepting that his fate is to die alone. If only he'd stop barking and bite the rope. "Help," she screamed now. Her voice strained and she could taste blood as her vocal cords rattled in her throat. She screamed until she was sure her throat would explode, stopping only to take short, deep breaths.