Just an fyi, if you read the first chapter before now, I changed it a bit, so you should probably take a look, since some of the stuff is important. It won't seem like it is, but that's why I rock. lol.

Also, be kind. this is my second fanfiction ever. I'm still working out the kinks.

This is now Claudia's POV. haha, switched it up on you. yup, i'm sly like that. lol.

My ears were ringing. Kinda like something you'd see in some blockbuster boxing movie, after the buff lead actor gets punched in the face and you aren't quite sure if he'll get back up. It was kinda like getting punched in the face. Like the ground was spinning towards me, and I was supposed to be able to stop it. I was supposed to be able to put my hands out and break my fall. But my arms wouldn't move, and the spinning wouldn't stop. I didn't know why. I had been in high-risk situations before, much more so than being trapped in some hunk of wood.

Trapped.

This was different, and fifty percent of my fear came from not knowing why I was so afraid.

"Claudia?" Pete was still fumbling with the door knob. He was just so far away.

The air inside was humid and smelled of decayed wood, which made breathing even more difficult. It was almost pitch black. I lifted my hand slightly, distantly, to try to push open the door again, as futile as that proved to be, and immediately met a side of the closet. My heart jumped. I then realized just how small it was. The sides of the closet were only a few inches from my body, and if I stood on my toes, my head would touch the ceiling.

Trapped.

My heart pounded over the ringing. I tried to breathe. I tried to stop the feeling in the pit of my stomach from rising up into my chest, to my heart. But all I could think about was that word.

Trapped.

"Claudia?" His voice sounded worried, and all brotherly.

Oh, How cute. Please excuse me while I barf.

"Look, Claudia? I'm sorry. I really thought it was safe."

My own bitterness made me sick. I reprimanded myself. It wasn't his fault I was in this mess, he didn't know what would happen. He thought it was harmless.

"I was in it, and nothing happened at all"

He was in it? How'd he manage that?

I pictured Pete struggling to stuff himself into the small closet, and found myself smiling a little.

"Look Pete, just get Artie? Ok?" My voice was embarrassingly shaky. I rolled my eyes at life.

He was silent for a minute, then he spoke cautiously.

"Claudia, are you alright? You don't really sound too hot."

I sighed obviously loud, for his sake more than mine. Annoyed is better than scared.

"Pete. look, I'm in a closet. It's not all that fun. Not much to do in here but smell dust, which also isn't fun."

And neither is fighting off a panic attack.

He was quiet again. It irritated me.

"Hello? Seriously, if you could just get Artie?"

Please just get me out.

*Blood trickled from her forehead, flowing over her beautiful face, tainting it. I looked into her eyes. They were my eyes. My light brown, angular eyes, dying. I coughed roughly. It smelled of burnt rubber and gas. My father reached weakly over the shattered glass to grasp her hand. The side of his rough, masculine face that I saw was covered in dirt and tears. I reached out to them. I needed to touch them, to know they were still real, but my small, child hands couldn't quite close the distance.*

The scene faded to black, and stayed there. I blinked. I suddenly remembered where I was, and then I wished I hadn't.

"What the hell was that?" I spoke aloud. Silence answered me, then that dark, creeping whisper.

Trapped.

My heart stuttered. I needed to move. I needed out.

"Pete?" My voice cracked.

"Are you there?"

He didn't answer. I pressed my ear against the door.

"Pete? Hello?"

Nothing. He left me there. I rested my head against the door and struggled to hold myself together. It whispered again, sending chills down my back.

Trapped.

"Pete!"