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The Tunnel
Plop. Plop. Plop. The sound echoed in the dark tunnel, each drop reverberating against the damp concrete walls. I peered through the tunnel and strained my ears, trying to listen for any sounds. I heard the small clack of nails scrambling on the ground and tiny squeaks; it sounded like rats. The idea of going into a rat-infested tunnel was not appealing, but it was better than being caught by the police. With a racing heart, I walked into the tunnel, each step making a tap, tap, tap. I tried to calm my heavy breaths and keep my feet light. I clutched the plastic bag in my hand, its contents quietly clacking against each other, and tried to make sure it didn't make any conspicuous noises.
The further I walked into the tunnel, the darker it got. At one point, a nasty stench hit my nostrils, like something was rotting, and had me struggling to hide the sounds of my gagging in case anyone was near the tunnel. When it started getting hard to see my own hands in front of my face, I decided to stop. I thought to myself, I should stop here. The police have probably lost me, and who knows where the rest of this tunnel leads? I turned around and squinted at the tiny light that was the entrance to the tunnel, now a speck in the dark. My ears picked up the sound of running water and rats running along the floor. I flinched when I felt one brush past my leg, its wet, furry body transferring whatever disgusting things it touched onto my leg. I need to take a shower when I get home.
I blindly found the wall, which was slimy, and slowly sat down with my back leaning against it. I carefully placed the plastic bag next to me and wrapped my arms around my legs. I shivered as the cold embraced me in a tight hug. I placed my head on my knees and tried to get some sleep. Plop. Plop. Plop. I shut my eyes tightly as I tried to picture myself in a better place that wasn't some damp, dark, disgusting tunnel filled with rats and whatever else was in here. I pictured myself with my mother, her eyes lit up with joy at the sight of me coming back home. She would hug me and the pleasant scent of lavender and jasmine would fill my senses. She would prepare warm milk at night when I couldn't sleep and hum an old folk song until I fell asleep. I could use some of that warm milk right now.
I felt myself finally drifting off… until something cold and slimy brushed against my arm. I let out an involuntary shriek as I jumped up. Whatever it was that touched me ran away and I couldn't make it out in the darkness. My heart beat against my chest as I wiped the slimy residue left on my arm onto my shirt. I felt tears prick the corners of my eyes and I thought, I just want to get out of this disgusting place. I want to go home. I didn't care about whether the police were waiting at the tunnel's entrance to ambush me, I just wanted to get out of this place. I looked toward where I thought the tunnel's entrance was, and realized that there was only darkness. I looked the other way, and saw the same thing. I raised my hands in front of my face, and with a horrifying realization, I realized that I couldn't see anything. Night must have fallen. Now, there was no light. And I was lost. I didn't know which way was the entrance and which way was deeper in the tunnel. I dropped to the ground and blindly felt around for the plastic bag, suppressing the urge to vomit as my hands brushed against what was probably rat feces. Where is it?! I know I put it next to me! I searched and searched, but with another realization, I knew it was gone. I crumpled to the ground, not caring anymore as tears freely flowed out of my eyes and dropped on the floor. Plop. Plop. Plop.
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This was written for my Composition class final.