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  • Writer's pictureLaura L. Zimmerman

Flash Fiction Friday: Trapped

Scarlett sat up, a cushy bed of pink ruffles and faint scent of floral perfume around her. One hand swiped against her tired hazel eyes.

Where am I?

Two blinks later, she placed her bare feet against the carpet of the unfamiliar bedroom, pushed the flimsy covers aside. She stopped and wiggled her toes.

What is this?

It certainly wasn’t carpet. A strange fabric covered the floor. She twisted her upper lip and buckled her pale brow as a chill ran down her arms.

“Hello?” she said. Silence greeted her.

Strange. There isn’t a single window in here. 

Her belly turned in circles as she tentatively stepped into the next room. A nursery. Odd, considering she didn’t have a baby brother or sister. At seven, she was the youngest in her family.

Still no window in this room, either. She reached out to topple a pile of alphabet blocks, but they didn’t budge. At least not individually. The entire pile of blocks fell over in one large lump, glued tight tight tight, like her lips when her best friend, Stella, told her to keep a secret.

Who’d want to play with glued together blocks?

Her head shook as she stepped out of the room, down the darkened stairwell. An odd earthy smell hung there. Wood shavings sat along the edge of each step and she ran a hand along the banister, rubbed dust between her fingers.

No, not wood. 

“Where am I?” she said a little louder. Still nothing.

She padded the rest of the way down. Her fingers fell on the front door handle but it twisted around without a nudge. So she walked into the first room to her left. The dining room. A large table was set with dishes and food, every chair perfectly settled beneath.

If it’s dinnertime, where is everybody?

Jaw set in defiance, her hands found her hips. Scarlett’s eyes narrowed and fell on the turkey leg in the center of the nearest plate. Her belly rumbled.

A quick pluck of the welcome sight, while her mouth watered and teeth prepared to grind against soft flesh – only to sink into a painted peg leg. Ouch! Her eyes stung while she spit and coughed.


Nothing about this slab of wood was real! A disappointing prospect, as she gazed at all that remained to be consumed. She sighed. No wonder no one showed up for the meal! Scarlett tossed the offending matter to the side and stomped into the next room. It was time for some answers.

A window! 

Her nose poked clear through the empty square in the wall, no window pane to separate the void. Breath caught in her throat and her eyes grew large as saucers at what she saw.

“Melody!” a voice boomed. “Time for supper!”

The giant-sized girl on the bed dropped her dolls and swept past the dollhouse. The one that held a very tiny and bewildered girl named Scarlett.

©Laura L. Zimmerman 2016

Screen Shot 2016-08-12 at 4.49.29 PM

Photo cred. unsplash by Jordan Sanchez

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