Bennie opened her eyes into white light, so bright it hurt her eyes. She didn’t know where she was or what was happening. She blinked, lying still, in confusion. She wasn’t coughing anymore, nor was she gasping. She could breathe. Odors of filth, urine, and sweat filled her nostrils. They told her she was still in the box, but she was alive, which meant that the light could be a hole in the lid.
“My God in heaven,” she heard herself say. The animal must have made the hole, finally scratching his way through, along the long crack in the lid. She felt a sort of gratitude, and wonderment. She passed her hand over her eyes a couple of times, blocking and unblocking the light. She left her hand in the air, catching the light in her palm. She spread her fingers slightly, and a single shaft of brightness shot toward her, like a glowing wand onto her hand.
It’s the sun!
She tried to think, to reason. The box must be outside somewhere, and the animal was gone now. If it was nocturnal, it would be back tonight. She felt a familiar bolt of fear and slammed the hole with the heel of her hand. Pain shot down her arm, but she ignored it. If the animal had made this hole, she was going to make it larger and bust through it. It was her only chance, and she had to do it before the animal came back.
She pounded on the hole with her palms, pressing upward with all her might. Her hands hurt so much, but she couldn’t stop. She wanted to live. She didn’t feel hunger or thirst. She visualized breaking through the lid, powering through to the sunlight.
And survival.