I Got Stuck Novels & Stories

Ian switched on the flashlight on his phone. The dim light spread across the elevator walls. "It can't be," I whispered. My hands were shaking as I quickly pulled out my own phone. I tried calling. Once. Twice. Three times. Nothing.There is no signal. The call wouldn’t go through. My chest tightened as I slowly lowered my phone. I looked up at Ian. My voice trembled as the reality hit me. "We're stuck," I whispered. The words felt heavy in my mouth. "We are fucking stuck....." I swallowed nervously before finishing my sentence. "Together."

I couldn't lift myself, not even when I desperately tried to grab onto the stable edge of the pit. It felt like a never-ending vortex, eating me whole, until there was nothing left for my frantic fingers to grab onto. “E... eh?” was the last, confused sound I managed to make. That's when the truth hit me: I messed up.

“Rylan— Ah!” In my haste to get to him, my right leg got stuck on one of the dark vines and I hit the ground hard! My body could barely even process the pain as I was more focused on getting to Rylan. I tried to drag myself up. And that was when I realized that, I was stuck. My leg didn’t just get stuck. The vines had me wrapped! “Shit!” I kicked, pushed and dragged but no matter what I did, the hold of the vine on my leg refused to fall off.

Just a stupid drunk fall, nothing more. I attempt to stand but get a shock...I'm stuck. I try to move my hands, but I think the belt is stuck on one of the fucking nails sticking out from the fence. Trying harder, I pull forward, but when I do, I choke myself with my panties. Then I try to stand up to the same result. I try harder to the same exact result. A strange laugh comes out of me now. A laugh born of being stuck as I look out at the street. I'm stuck. Fucking stuck. I'm naked, on my knees and stuck like this on the side of someone's house. Completely helpless and gagged too.

He took a step back, watching her stricken face. Her legs shook as she struggled to stand on her own, her knees felt weak, her hands weakly tried to hold on to the slippery wall, failing. But more prominently, she realised, the throb in between her legs was most weakening, distracting.

“You first reached out to me to forgive Melissa, the single connection I have with you all, and to go back as nothing happened. And I don’t think I could just face her. Not now. Not even with the team.” “Anton, I—” “Mikey,” Anton said, cutting him off and giving him a forced smile. “I appreciate everything you’ve done to me as my captain but dude, don’t make me feel like I’m being used all this time.” Besides, he thought to himself. what could he do with a busted leg anyway? -- He should have ridden a train. It would only take thirty minutes to get back to Fin’s apartment. But his thinking process wasn’t doing well after that so instead, Anton walked back home without taking a break.

I told myself and poured some wine in the wine glass, then paused and looked at the half filled glass. A little more won’t hurt. I nodded to myself and poured in some more till the glass was filled. Placing the bottle on the counter, I picked up the glass and looked at it again. I could see a faint reflection of myself in it. I sighed softly as I refused to drink from it. I knew I was anxious, I was confused and most importantly, I was stuck. I shook my head very lightly. I’ve been stuck for a long time now…

What if… I shook my head, trying to dispel the dark thoughts. I couldn’t afford to succumb to despair. I needed information, and I needed a plan. But the blocked cards had stripped me of my immediate options. I was stranded, unable to even book a flight, and now, unable to even get through to Don Antonio’s phone. The walls of my helplessness seemed to be closing in, suffocating me with worry and frustration.

But it made the twinge in my heart grow heavier. I slumped into a brick seat and fished out my laptop, sighing softly. I switched it on and went straight to my MS Word. I stared at the chapter I had been halfway into. I had been stuck for days and I didn't even know how to get it going anymore. My fingers hovered on the keyboards and I breathed shakily, shutting my eyes. "Come on, come on," I whispered, trying to get myself to write something but each time I came up with something, it was those words that played in my head on a dreadful repeat.

I spin, eyes burning, lungs straining for breath. The stairs. The door to the stairs. Yes. I turn and rush toward it, weaving through the thick smoke. I reach the door and yank on the handle—but it won’t budge. I pull harder. It doesn’t move. My confusion sharpens. I shake the handle, slam my shoulder into it, again and again. Nothing. It’s stuck. I don’t understand. Why won’t it open? Terror floods through me. “No,” I mutter. “No, no…”