A bright light flashes in front of my eyes.

Well, not in that way, I suppose, but then again…

Lying flat on my back, I literally can't do anything else, but stare at the light fixtures hanging overhead. I struggle to turn my head; my neck restricted by the stock holding me in place. The same structure also clamps my hands as well. I notice the light reflecting off my glittering fingernails; only mere inches away from my face. I think of how much work Mabel put into helping me get ready for tonight.

I attempt to look down towards my current situation. I was coerced into this long and narrow yellow-reddish box that currently covers my somewhat tall frame. On the other side, my ankles are also fortified by a form of restraint. I attempt to slide my legs out. After all, that is how the "experts" on TV escape this thing, right? As I pull, I feel something else yank my feet back into position, keeping me secured to the other side of the table. The draft in the room breezes against my soles, quickly reminding me that I am barefoot.

I lower my head back onto the table. I can feel my long, bright red hair hang off the edges. Any way you look at it, the answer's the exact same:

I am utterly and totally trapped, through and through…

I struggle to fight the rising sense of nervousness flowing throughout my body. My breathing begins to become heavier and heavier as I began to realize the seriousness of my situation. My heart beats at 300 miles per hour. I'm not a claustrophobic person, but I won't lie. This sense of being stuck is starting to get to me…

With great effort, I turn my head to the left. I see the first of the Pines twins (or as I like to refer to them, "my partners in crime"). Wearing an adorable tuxedo getup, I watch as the pint-sized Mabel stands with great confidence and moxie as she addresses the crowd in front of her. With a braced-filled smile, she turns towards in my direction, acknowledging my presence with a gesture of her arms. I can barely make out her address:

"…and now, our brave damsel will be sawn in half! Against her will, of course; after all, that's half the fun!"

The audience chuckles at my predicament, while beads of sweat begin to drip down my forehead. My palms and the bottoms of my feet become clammy. All of a sudden, someone to my right whispers my name.

"Wendy?"

I try my best to turn to see where the voice is coming from. I look straight into the dark, yet gentle brown eyes of the second Pines twin, Dipper. He is draped in the same tuxedo outfit as his sister. A great look of concern is spread across his face.

"Wendy…are you okay?"

I attempt to hide my panicked state, offering a brave half smile, "Never better, dork…"

His expression doesn't change at all. He's not buying it. He can see my worry. Dipper tries to coax it out of me once more.

"Nervous, huh?"

Somewhat tired of hiding, I lower my eyes to the twelve year old loyally standing by my side.

"Dipper…" I whisper back. "Are you guys sure you know what you're doing?"

The small adolescent begins to display a look of confidence; a look that is somewhat rare in Dipper's case.

"Of course, Wendy! Why would you think otherwise?"

I begin to come clean with my concerns, "Well, it's just that we haven't even talked about how these tricks are performed! I have no idea what I'm doing, or what exactly I'm expected to do!"

I wiggle my confined limbs, demonstrating to the boy my helpless state.

"I can't move, Dipper…" I continue explaining. "For real! There's absolutely no way I can get out of here!"

Despite my unease, Dipper offers a calm smirk. "But Wendy…" he argues. "That's kinda the point! We have to show the people out there that you really can't escape…"

"But, Dipper, how is this going to work?"

After my plea, I watch as Dipper comes closer and grasps the restrained hand closest to him. A warm feeling, somewhat different from the anxiety I felt earlier, begins to grow in my stomach. As odd as it may sound, Dipper's simple act of reassurance actually took some of the pressure off.

"Wendy? Do you really think I'd let anything bad happen to you?"

I look away from my cohort's eyes for a moment. I turn back and reply, "Of course not!" The small voice at the back of my head adds, "…at least, not purposely…"

As his brown eyes meet my emerald green ones yet again, I feel Dipper gently squeeze my stocked hand once more. He pledges to me a form of mantra that I would hear again and again throughout the course of this long and exhausting night:

"Then, trust me, won't you? I promise: everything will be alright…"

I smile and nod my head at his words. Despite the overwhelming situation I had been placed into, there was something in Dipper's eyes; his voice that eluded that he truly believed it to be so. Regardless of the "common sense" alarms ringing in my head; against my better judgment, I had quickly come to a decision:

I will put my faith in Dipper. After all, the way I figure it, I would want him to do the same…

Suddenly, I hear Mabel call out to her brother, "C'mon, Dipper! The crowd is getting restless…"

He turns back to me and whispers "Gotta go! Good luck, Wendy!"

I watch as the boy runs out of my perspective. After a few moments of quiet (besides the random audience chatter), I begin to hear a sound.

Being the daughter of the town's lumberjack, it is a distinctive noise that is like second nature to me: it is the sound of wood being sawed through!

Helpless to do anything else, I return my head to its previous position. I stare once more up at the rafters, where a bright flash blinds me yet again.

I take a deep gulp, and silently hope to myself that it's only the stage light hanging overhead that I am seeing. I begin to reflect silently to myself about how I ended up in this position…