EMILY APPROACHED THE HOME that she shared with her father. She was accompanied by her new friend Sara. It was the type of place that was copied and pasted throughout the subdivision. Sara could tell that her new friend had money, as they sprang for the special garage doors and glass front entrances that few of the otherwise identical houses could boast. Sara had just attended her first day of school in a new city and Emily was immediately drawn to her. Emily had a nose for picking out popular girls and something about Sara stood out. They stopped at the gates of the McmMansion. Emily pressed a series of buttons and it popped open.

“Such a pain to have to do this every day. It should know it’s me and let me in—like my cellphone.”

Sara smiled, she had never seen anyone who lived with this amount of luxury, and hearing Emily complain made her a little annoyed. “Yeah, but it’s good to be protected, right?”

“Yeah, whatever, so what’s your house like?”

The closer they got to the front door the more intimidated Sara became. “We’re in an apartment right now, we’re still new to the city.”

Emily opened the door and both girls stepped inside. “An apartment? Ew, what do your parents do?”

Sara was reluctant to answer the question but she figured she may as well be honest. “My parents both passed away, Monty is a friend of the family who helped raise me. I kind of look at him like my dad.”

Emily didn’t respond. Sara wasn’t even sure she was listening. They were now in a massive space with what Sara was sure was an original Jean-Michel Basquiat adorned in a steel frame. She recognized the three pointed crown. There was a television that she guessed was at least eight feet across. “So this is the living room. I told my dad we need a bigger TV but he still hasn’t got one. Rude. Come with me, I’ll show you my room.”

Sara took a deep breath and followed her new friend up an exceptionally wide staircase with dense wooden hand rails and twisted iron spindles. At the top they proceeded down a vast hall. Emily stopped at a door with pink hearts taped to the outside and opened it. “So yeah, this is where I spend most of my time. It’s not much but my parents are supposed to be putting in a hot tub. I’ve already been waiting like, a week, so I don’t know what the problem is.”

Sara figured the bedroom was as big as the apartment she shared with Monty. “I think it’s really nice, you’re lucky.”

“Lucky? Ahh, no. My friend Lucile is lucky. She got a hot tub in her room the same day she asked for it. It’s like my parents don’t even care about me.”

Sara tried not to roll her eyes. She would have loved to have shown Emily a quick slideshow of her life to show her what real problems were. Emily was clearly spoiled and entitled, Sara decided she would hang out a little longer. The two girls sat in Emily’s room talking. Mostly Emily was showing off her things, and then complaining about them. It wasn’t long before a voice could be heard calling up the stairs.

“Emily, honey, we’re home.”

“Ugh, that’s my stupid parents,” Emily said, before calling back to her mother. “Great, did you get me my hot tub?”

“Not yet sweetie, it needs to be customized for the space, I told you that.”

“Bitch,” Emily said with frustration to Sara. Sara tried to smile but was getting annoyed. Emily could barely sit still. “Let’s go down there, I need to talk to my father.”

Sara nodded and followed her new friend through the hall and down the grand staircase. They were barely at the bottom when Emily called out, “Father?”

Emily’s father came out of the kitchen. He had a sheepish expression, as though he knew he was about to get in trouble. “Yes, princess?”

“Where is my hot tub? I asked for it a week ago.”

Emily’s mother joined in “I told you sweetie, they have to custom make it. They need measurements and time, we’re working on it.”

“You’re not working on it very fast.”

Her father said, “Princess please, don’t get upset, it should be here in three more days.”

“Three days? That is so unfair!” Emily began flailing her arms like a toddler. “I hate you both! I wish you were dead!” She stormed back to her room. The door slammed, audible from the bottom of the stairs.

Looking at the distraught parents, Sara shook her head in disbelief “I’m Sara, I’m new in town. Nice to meet you.”

Emily’s parents left the room in a strange sideways embrace, comforting each other in an awkward, dramatic way. Sara pulled out her phone and texted Monty before going back out the front door,

~~~

Emily woke in a dark room. The floor was concrete but the atmosphere made identifying other distinguishing features difficult. She couldn’t remember how she got there. Sitting up, she rubbed her temples, trying her best to recall anything that could help her figure out where she was. The last thing she remembered was walking home from school. Everything after that was a blur. The more awake and aware she became, the more her reality began to set in. She was becoming more terrified by the minute.

“Hello? Is anyone there?”

Silence filled the air until a loud noise echoed through the room, followed by a sterile neon light that illuminated her surroundings. She looked around frantically, the dull glow didn’t offer up much new information.. “Hello? Who’s there? What’s going on?” The room was small and crafted of cement. There were two small, round doors on one of the walls like closed portholes on a ship.

She got up and then froze when she heard a loud distorted voice echoing through the small space.

“Hello, Emily.”

“Who’s there?”

“In this room, you will see two doors. If you want to live, all you have to do is leave. One door leads to freedom and the other leads to a dead end.” There was some distorted chuckling that sent shivers up Emily’s spine. The voice added “Literally.”

She squinted, glancing back and forth at the two doors. They were small but she was confident she could fit through either of them.

“That’s it? I just have to open the doors and I can leave?”

“If you look on the floor in the corner of the room, you will find all the tools you need to gain access to your freedom.”

“What tools?” A Swiss army knife lay on the cement floor. She picked it up and examined it. It was a good one, it had everything on it a saw, a screwdriver, and a blade sharpened to an intense edge.

“What am I supposed to do with this?”

No response.

She headed to the first door. It was latched closed with a Philips head screw. The knife had a screwdriver bit that was the perfect shape and size.

“This really isn’t that hard you know, whoever you are.” She wasn’t sure who she was trying to convince, her captor, or herself.

She slid the screwdriver in and began to turn it. The screws came out with ease and the door was free to open.

“Wow, that was hard. See ya, psycho.”

She flung the door open and saw her true challenge. The entire interior of the door was blocked with something. It had a pinkish hue and she couldn’t tell what it was. She reluctantly pressed her finger against it.

“Hello? Who’s there? Help me, please.”

Emily jumped back, the obstruction was a living human being. Instead of concern, she felt annoyance.

“Get out of the way, I need to get through that door, is there an exit in there?”

“I can’t move, I’m chained to the wall and I can’t see anything. Please, help me.” The voice was familiar.

“Mom?”

“Emily?”

Emily turned around and stared at the ceiling. “What is this? Talk to me! Why is my Mom here? How am I supposed to get out?”

Emily pushed her mother’s back as hard as she could trying to remove her from the small porthole. She was determined but made no progress. She could hear her mother rustling trying to free herself on the other side. She pushed harder.

“Oww, I can’t move, I’m stuck to the wall, my hands are in cuffs or something.”

Emily started crying. Panicking, she searched the rest of the room. It was all concrete and there was no other way to get out. She pulled out the screwdriver and approached the second door. Once the screws were off, it opened with ease. It too was blocked by something that appeared to be flesh.

She poked it “Hello?”

“Princess? What are we doing here?”

“Daddy?”

The distinct sound of weeping filled the small room. Emily turned looking for a camera, or a speaker.

Something.

She yelled as loud as she could.

“How am I supposed to get through the doors when my parents are chained to them? What is this? Say something.” She was starting to feel helpless.

This wasn’t fair.

“Mom! I think he wants me to... go through you...”

Silence.

“What do you mean? Who is he?” Her mother’s voice shaking and unsteady.“I don’t know. A voice told me that my only way out is through these doors. What do I do?”

Her father spoke loudly “Try to find another way out.”

“I did that, There aren’t any.”

“Then go through me, save yourself, and your mother.”

Crying Emily sat on the floor, her back against the wall. She closed the screwdriver and pulled out the sharpened blade. She laid it against her wrist but hesitated. She couldn’t do it, even if it meant saving her parents. She heard her father from the other side of the wall.

“If you don’t do it, we’re all going to starve to death. Save yourself, do what you have to.”

Emily wanted to wait it out. She wanted her parents to try harder to get free. Her father insisted he would rather be killed by someone he loved than starve to death and never be found. Emily took a deep breath and perched beside the second window. The knife was locked into place. She had to convince herself she was about to cut into something that wasn’t her father –like a pig or a homeless person.

Her father sensed her hesitation “Just do it.”

She closed her eyes and slid the blade into his back. It hit something solid. and she could hear him gritting his teeth, screams muted into whines and whispers. She moved the knife around, removing small chunks of flesh. She started slowly working her way towards freedom. She could hear him crying on the other side of the wall.

When she’d stop, he’d say the same thing, “Get it over with, just do it.”

After twenty minutes of digging, she realized his spinal column was too strong to cut through with the small knife. With tears in her eyes, she folded up the blade and replaced it with the saw. She shook placing it against the exposed bone. She started at the bottom of the window. Slowly and meticulously she began sliding it back and forth. She could feel the serrated blade chewing through the bone. Her father was still awake, and now struggling to control his reactions. Emily could see dangling intestines dancing back and forth as he pushed against his restraints.

Once she made it through the bottom of the spinal cord she pulled on it hard. She used all of her strength, moving it upward to break it off.

She called out, “I’m so sorry Daddy, are you alright?”

He didn’t respond.

She figured her father had passed out from the pain. She didn’t think to start at the top, which would have made him lose feeling in his lower half. Her hands were tremorous as she folded up the saw and brought the small knife back into play. With her father unresponsive, the process was less daunting but far from easy.

It took another twenty minutes before she managed to slash and stab her way through his torso. She knew she had to make the hole big enough to fit through. She cut around the inside edge of the round window, shaving the meat and removing the fallen bits with her hands. Eventually, a hole was whittled to a size she thought she could squeeze through. She put both her hands through her father followed by her head.

It was a tight squeeze. Like a newborn baby pushing its way into the world. It was a literal meat tunnel, complete with severed bone and internal organs. She inched her way through, using her hips to push her forward. Soon her hands touched the floor. She used all her strength to push against the back of the cement wall and drag the rest of her body out of the window.

“Oh my God, Mom, I made it through, I’m on the other side.”

From her hands and knees, still dripping with warm bits of her father, she looked up to see a door. It was open but no light was shining through. Her eyes had adjusted enough to the light that she could make out the basics of the room. It was small, sterile, a concrete floor. The only notable feature was the door. She fixed her gaze on it as she slowly climbed to her feet. She stepped toward it. The door slammed shut. She froze.

Written on the back in spray paint mocking her.: “Sorry, wrong door.”

She screamed. Running at the door, she banged on it as hard as she could. It wouldn’t budge. Exhausted, she dropped to her knees. She rotated facing the room. Her father was shackled to the wall with a large hole bored through his stomach. A pool of blood and bits of flesh gathered on the floor, stretching across the concrete.

“I’m sorry Daddy,” it was the first time she had any sympathy for the man. She had always seen him as a means to getting what she wanted. Now he was gone, and he was gone by her hand. The adrenaline coursed through her at a rate that made it difficult to come to terms with what she had done.

She jumped when her father opened his eyes.

He was still alive.

“I forgive you, Pprincess. Please, kill me.”

“What? Daddy, I can’t,” she pondered the possibility of saving him. Giving him back his life after all he had given her throughout the years.

“Please Emily, kill me, I can’t take it.” His head slumped down, eyes rolling back in his head..

Emily walked toward him. She left the knife on the other side. She poked him and he didn’t respond.

“I’m so sorry, Daddy.” Tears rolled down her cheeks.

She put her arms back through the hole, grabbing the other side with ease. She placed her head back through the wound in her father’s abdomen and pulled herself as hard as she could. She burst further into tears as he screamed in pain. She did her best to get through as quickly as possible. She dropped to the floor and picked up the small blade.

“I’ll do it, Daddy.”

No response, he’d lost a lot of blood.

Emily continued crying as she sat with her back against the cement wall—knife in hand.

“I did it, let me out of here, what is wrong with you?”

Emily rose to her feet and went back to her mother’s window. Her frame was smaller and there were tiny gaps on each side of her waist. She deduced that she could cut her mother in half.

“I’m sorry Mom, I need to get out of here.”

It was hard for her not to think of herself. She had already killed one of her parents and knew her only option was to repeat the process. She knew her mother had been listening the entire time. She would have known that her husband was already dead and accepted her own fate to be the same.

Emily felt she could be far more efficient with her mother. Emily started at the top and slid the blade into her flesh. Her mother didn’t scream. As she sliced away at the muscle tissue Emily could hear hearing whimpering, but still no screams. Once she got deep enough she could see the white she was looking for, Emily pulled out the small saw. Back and forth she dragged it. Small pieces of bone dust fell as she began to gnaw away at the spinal column.

“Motherfucker!” Emily had never heard her mother swear before.

Emily worked faster. Through with the hard part, she switched back to the small knife and began removing flesh. Her mother’s back opened up, and her small intestine slipped into the small door. It made a squishing sound, snaking its way onto the floor, and landing on Emily’s foot. She forced herself to look away. She kept working. The gap was widening. The weight of her lower half was helping her see where her mother was still connected. She sliced through where she needed as more organs slipped out. She stayed focused until the bottom half of her mother’s body fell to the floor on the other side of the wall.

She threw the small knife through the window and climbed her way through. While she squeezed into the bloody opening, she felt warm drops of blood and fluids land on her back. She felt the organs under her feet explode from her weight. She dropped to the floor on the other side and landed on her mother’s lower half. Instinctually, she screamed and jumped to her feet.

The door in front of her was open.

She looked back at her mother. She remained silent but her chest was still rising and falling. She was staring wide-eyed but seemed to be in a state of shock. Emily knew she couldn’t leave her like that. She picked up the knife and walked slowly toward the top half still chained to the wall.

“I’m so sorry, Mom.”

She slid the blade across her mother’s throat. Blood gently poured out. It was like a serene fountain on a low setting. It cascaded onto the floor, adding to the puddle that had already accumulated. Her mother’s eyes rolled back. She looked at peace.

It was over in less than a minute.

Emily turned around and looked at the open door, concerned that it may slam shut like the previous one. She made a run for it. Before she knew it, she was standing in a field in the middle of nowhere.

It took three days for Emily to make it to a town. She was found in a catatonic state and struggled to explain to the police what had happened. When she was finally able to communicate the parts she was able to recall, the police weren’t able to find the building. Her parent’s bodies were never located.

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