Out Part 2

The lit to the box wouldn’t budge, no matter how much leverage Mercy used with her legs, pushing up from the floor, trying to get the top to open up. Frustrated, she sank back down to the ground, her arms aching.

There had to be a way to get out of here!

She was dreaming. That cognizant thought came back to her. She was dreaming--and she knew she was dreaming. So wouldn’t that mean she should be able to get out of here? Shouldn’t she be in control of what happened in her own mind?

Looking up at the lid of the box again, she concentrated on it, willing it to move. “Open!” she whispered. “Open, now!” It didn’t move. A little louder, she demanded, “Open! Open right now, damnit!”

The box lid still didn’t move. Mercy wrapped her arms back around her legs. Why was it that even in her own dreams she couldn’t overcome this horrific environment?

As she sat there, fuming, she felt a tingling in her hands. Other memories came back to her. The television she’d made explode. The soda can she’d eru