Exercise: A captive/prisoner needs to escape. Consider unlikely objects in your space and how to use them to escape.
It was the end of the day and I had popped into the loo before going home. I knew the handle was loose, but this time it came off in my hand. I banged on the door and then started shouting. There was no response. Everyone else had already left, as usual on a Friday afternoon.
I looked around. There were only small gaps under the door and the partitions either side went nearly to the ceiling. No room to climb over.
I sat down and wondered what to do. I suppose I could just stay here until Monday morning. I had nothing to eat, but there was plenty of water to drink. Why should I? There were plenty of things I had planned for the weekend. I was not going to spend it stuck in a lavatory cubicle.
I had another look around. Was there anything that would help me escape? I stared at the toilet roll for a while. Plenty of paper there; it wasn’t going to run out soon; but it was not going to help in getting me out of here.
The door handle was lying there on the floor, but the outside piece of it had fallen out. I crouched down and looked under the door. I could just see it, but it had rolled some way away. Even if I could reach it, I couldn’t fit it back onto the outside of the door.
I realized I had brought my handbag in with me. Of course, my mobile phone was in there. I got it out and wondered who would be the best person to ring. Then I noticed, there was no signal in here. I held it up in various positions but still nothing. I stared at the screen; no apps for getting through looked doors. Not such a smart phone then.
I emptied the rest of the contents of my handbag onto the floor. Was there anything else that would help? There was a torch; well at least I would be able to see if the lights went out. The usual rubbish: tissues and spare plastic carrier bags, a purse, at least I would be all right if I needed to pay a ransom. Keys and a selection of pens and pencils: a notebook; I could start writing my novel. Swiss Army Knife; that should be good for something. I opened it out but nothing sprang to mind; at least if I lost weight from lack of food, I could put an extra hole in my belt.
Last out of the bag was a book of matches, picked up in some hotel years ago. I held them in my hand and stared again at the toilet paper. Did I remember an announcement that they were going to put smoke alarms in the toilets to stop people smoking? I climbed up onto the seat and squinted along the ceiling. Yes, there was something that looked like a smoke alarm, but it was right at the far end of the room. Burning a few sheets of toilet paper weren’t going to set it off, even if it worked, or had a battery in it.
I sat down again and sorted through my possessions. I opened my purse and looked at the contents. Credit cards. Don’t people use them for opening locked doors? I selected one and tried sliding it between the door and the frame. Nothing. I pushed harder and wiggled it about. Then it snapped. I looked at the remaining piece of card in my hand; I wouldn’t be shopping in Tesco’s for a while. It always worked in the movies; perhaps James Bond was not based on real life.
I had a session of banging and screaming and then leant against the door in despair. I was going to have to spend the weekend here. Suddenly I realised what I was touching: wood. Wood burns. I looked more carefully at the door. Was it wood or some plastic imitation? I scraped it with the Swiss Army Knife, splinters. I tapped it gently, it sounded hollow. If I could set fire to the door, that should set off the smoke alarm. I might even be able to burn through the lock and escape.
There was a metal plate along the bottom of the door, so I would have to raise my fire up a bit. I noticed the metal bin in the corner and raised the lid. The contents were not very pleasant but would probably burn. I placed it against the door, below the lock, then tucked the errant handle under one side, so the bin was angled towards the door. I tore off several yards of toilet paper and added it, with some scrunched up pages from the notebook. I looked at my small collection of matches. I couldn’t waste any, so decided to get the flames going before adding them to the bin. I wrenched off the lid of the bin (it was getting in the way anyway) and made a small pile of ripped up paper on it.
I thought about the arrangement. The fire might draw better with a bit more air, so I picked up the Swiss army knife and, with a bit of effort, made a few holes around the bottom of the bin. I was about to strike a match when I wondered what would happen if the fire got out of control. I didn’t want to be burned to a crisp.
There was plenty of water available, so I scooped up handfuls and poured it over my hair and clothes, then filled a couple of the plastic bags with water and knotted the tops. They leaked slightly, but would help if I needed to put out the fire. Finally I wrenched the toilet seat off, (that was loose as well) and put it over my head. I could pull the cover over my face as a shield. I was ready.
I struck a match and touched it to the small pile of paper. Soon it was alight and I added a few more pages of the notebook and then tipped the lot into the bin. I quickly lit a couple more matches and added them to the bin. There was some smoke and I fanned the small flames with the cover of the notebook. Quickly the flames got bigger and I retreated to the corner of the cubicle.
Soon I was getting warmer. The cubicle was full of smoke and I started coughing. I peered round my shield and discovered that the flames had transferred to the door. I huddled there as long as I could, until the heat and lack of air became too much. It seemed as if the whole door was ablaze, so I shuffled forward and started kicking at the metal plate at bottom of the door.
I thought nothing was going to happen. Would they find my blackened corpse in the cubicle on Monday morning and wonder what had happened? Then there was a crack and the door swung open. I jumped up and with my shield before me, leaped through the flames and ran down between the basins and the row of other cubicles, to the door at the end. I flung it open and dived through, slamming it behind me.
Just outside, I nearly collided with a woman with a bucket and mop. Of course, why hadn’t I remembered the cleaners? If I’d waited a little longer, someone would have let me out without any problem.
I carefully removed the toilet seat from my shoulders and placed it on the ground beside me. I attempted to brush some of the pieces of burnt toilet paper from my sodden clothes.
“I’m afraid I’ve made rather a mess in there”
Then the alarm went off. I looked behind me to see tendrils of smoke starting to escape around the edge of the door to the Ladies.
“I don’t suppose you’ve got a fire extinguisher?”
It was the end of the day and I had popped into the loo before going home. I knew the handle was loose, but this time it came off in my hand. I banged on the door and then started shouting. There was no response. Everyone else had already left, as usual on a Friday afternoon.
I looked around. There were only small gaps under the door and the partitions either side went nearly to the ceiling. No room to climb over.
I sat down and wondered what to do. I suppose I could just stay here until Monday morning. I had nothing to eat, but there was plenty of water to drink. Why should I? There were plenty of things I had planned for the weekend. I was not going to spend it stuck in a lavatory cubicle.
I had another look around. Was there anything that would help me escape? I stared at the toilet roll for a while. Plenty of paper there; it wasn’t going to run out soon; but it was not going to help in getting me out of here.
The door handle was lying there on the floor, but the outside piece of it had fallen out. I crouched down and looked under the door. I could just see it, but it had rolled some way away. Even if I could reach it, I couldn’t fit it back onto the outside of the door.
I realized I had brought my handbag in with me. Of course, my mobile phone was in there. I got it out and wondered who would be the best person to ring. Then I noticed, there was no signal in here. I held it up in various positions but still nothing. I stared at the screen; no apps for getting through looked doors. Not such a smart phone then.
I emptied the rest of the contents of my handbag onto the floor. Was there anything else that would help? There was a torch; well at least I would be able to see if the lights went out. The usual rubbish: tissues and spare plastic carrier bags, a purse, at least I would be all right if I needed to pay a ransom. Keys and a selection of pens and pencils: a notebook; I could start writing my novel. Swiss Army Knife; that should be good for something. I opened it out but nothing sprang to mind; at least if I lost weight from lack of food, I could put an extra hole in my belt.
Last out of the bag was a book of matches, picked up in some hotel years ago. I held them in my hand and stared again at the toilet paper. Did I remember an announcement that they were going to put smoke alarms in the toilets to stop people smoking? I climbed up onto the seat and squinted along the ceiling. Yes, there was something that looked like a smoke alarm, but it was right at the far end of the room. Burning a few sheets of toilet paper weren’t going to set it off, even if it worked, or had a battery in it.
I sat down again and sorted through my possessions. I opened my purse and looked at the contents. Credit cards. Don’t people use them for opening locked doors? I selected one and tried sliding it between the door and the frame. Nothing. I pushed harder and wiggled it about. Then it snapped. I looked at the remaining piece of card in my hand; I wouldn’t be shopping in Tesco’s for a while. It always worked in the movies; perhaps James Bond was not based on real life.
I had a session of banging and screaming and then leant against the door in despair. I was going to have to spend the weekend here. Suddenly I realised what I was touching: wood. Wood burns. I looked more carefully at the door. Was it wood or some plastic imitation? I scraped it with the Swiss Army Knife, splinters. I tapped it gently, it sounded hollow. If I could set fire to the door, that should set off the smoke alarm. I might even be able to burn through the lock and escape.
There was a metal plate along the bottom of the door, so I would have to raise my fire up a bit. I noticed the metal bin in the corner and raised the lid. The contents were not very pleasant but would probably burn. I placed it against the door, below the lock, then tucked the errant handle under one side, so the bin was angled towards the door. I tore off several yards of toilet paper and added it, with some scrunched up pages from the notebook. I looked at my small collection of matches. I couldn’t waste any, so decided to get the flames going before adding them to the bin. I wrenched off the lid of the bin (it was getting in the way anyway) and made a small pile of ripped up paper on it.
I thought about the arrangement. The fire might draw better with a bit more air, so I picked up the Swiss army knife and, with a bit of effort, made a few holes around the bottom of the bin. I was about to strike a match when I wondered what would happen if the fire got out of control. I didn’t want to be burned to a crisp.
There was plenty of water available, so I scooped up handfuls and poured it over my hair and clothes, then filled a couple of the plastic bags with water and knotted the tops. They leaked slightly, but would help if I needed to put out the fire. Finally I wrenched the toilet seat off, (that was loose as well) and put it over my head. I could pull the cover over my face as a shield. I was ready.
I struck a match and touched it to the small pile of paper. Soon it was alight and I added a few more pages of the notebook and then tipped the lot into the bin. I quickly lit a couple more matches and added them to the bin. There was some smoke and I fanned the small flames with the cover of the notebook. Quickly the flames got bigger and I retreated to the corner of the cubicle.
Soon I was getting warmer. The cubicle was full of smoke and I started coughing. I peered round my shield and discovered that the flames had transferred to the door. I huddled there as long as I could, until the heat and lack of air became too much. It seemed as if the whole door was ablaze, so I shuffled forward and started kicking at the metal plate at bottom of the door.
I thought nothing was going to happen. Would they find my blackened corpse in the cubicle on Monday morning and wonder what had happened? Then there was a crack and the door swung open. I jumped up and with my shield before me, leaped through the flames and ran down between the basins and the row of other cubicles, to the door at the end. I flung it open and dived through, slamming it behind me.
Just outside, I nearly collided with a woman with a bucket and mop. Of course, why hadn’t I remembered the cleaners? If I’d waited a little longer, someone would have let me out without any problem.
I carefully removed the toilet seat from my shoulders and placed it on the ground beside me. I attempted to brush some of the pieces of burnt toilet paper from my sodden clothes.
“I’m afraid I’ve made rather a mess in there”
Then the alarm went off. I looked behind me to see tendrils of smoke starting to escape around the edge of the door to the Ladies.
“I don’t suppose you’ve got a fire extinguisher?”