Window Blinds String Broke Novels & Stories

“I’m going to need you to stand.” He instructed. My eyes snapped open to see the rope he somehow had attached to part of the cliff wall, through the shattered windshield. There were inches between the rope and the jagged frame of glass that remained attached to the van, but it was our only option.

With a buzzing sound, the string that was already wound tightly. Snapped.

"Spencer, could you close those drapes, please?" "Sure, hon." Spencer reached forward and grabbed the drapes on either side of the front window, pulling them together. One side came all the way to the center, but the other stopped peculiarly short, with a gap of about 8" showing between the two sides. He tugged at the one side, unable to make it move. He looked closer, noticing that it was securely fastened at the end, but unable to go any further. "Oh, great." "What's wrong?"

The latch had broken. Liam reacted instantly. “I’ve got it.” Before she could protest, he moved toward the window. Rain sprayed inside, soaking the carpet. The wind shoved the glass frame inward, threatening to break it. Liam pressed his palm to the edge to force it closed—right as a piece of loose metal sliced across his hand. “Liam—!” Elara ran toward him as he hissed in pain. He managed to shove the window shut, securing it with his shoulder until the wind eased. Only then did he pull away, revealing a red smear trailing down his wrist.

I looked at the window. Then I swung the chair into it. The first impact cracked the glass in a star pattern from the center. The second broke through, a jagged section falling outward, the night air arriving immediately, cold and real. The third and fourth cleared enough of the frame to make the opening workable. I wrapped my hand in the blanket from the bed and cleared the remaining glass from the edges. The drop was significant. Two floors, the garden below visible in the evening dark. Not impossible. The exterior wall had a ledge below the window and a drainpipe running down the right side close enough to reach if I went out carefully.

There's a rectangular window big enough for me to climb through leading to a lower level or basement that's partially covered by weeds and overgrown brush. Ripping the overgrowth away from the window, I lean in close, peering through the glass while pushing in around the seam, checking for any give. I'd rather not break the original glass of the three horizontal paneled windows, but desperate times call for desperate measures. The decision was made when I saw that the slide chain latch on the inside of the bottom of the window frame was definitely locked.

One, two,three . And with all my force I used the chair to break the window. I heard a cracking sound but when I opened my eyes the window wasn't broken. It just hada few cracks. But what was shattered was the poor wooden chair. It had broken into at least six pieces. I groaned and threw the stick that was still in my hand on the floor and went for the second chair. I repeated the process and counted. One, two, three....

He scoffed, flicking a loose blind. "It's falling apart. There's a broken window jimmied closed with a bungee chord, your closet is sections of your floor, and I would wager my entire net worth that there are at least two different kinds of mold here, aside from what's in your fridge. It isn't safe."