I sat alone in the tiny, cream-tiled shower stall. It was lit by one florescent light, which was starting to flicker out. Just like my hope of escaping. I stood up and came face to face with the yellow shower door, staring him down. I wanted to see if my fate was still decided. A quick jiggle to the stiff handle told me that it was. My head down in utter defeat, I climbed back to my pale bench seat and released the most despondent sigh that I could muster. The facts were clear: I was alone, stuck in the marina's shower stall.

I considered yelling for help, but then I told myself that that would be a stupid thing to do. Then again, locking myself in a shower stall was even stupider. Still, I hadn't tried everything that I could with the little yellow door that was mercilessly holding me prisoner. I carefully turned the little silver lock again and, coaxing it gently with my fingers, I pulled the stubborn handle. Loud shuffling sounds from my feet echoed off the wall of the marina bathroom as I jiggled the knob. The handle didn't move at all and the door smirked at me as if he'd won. I turned away from the stupid thing with a disgusted cry.

Just as I'd started to accept my fate, I heard the grating sound of flip-flops on concrete. I jumped up and put my ear to the door, straining to hear if someone was coming near that could help me.

"Tara!" whined a familiar voice, "Come let us in, we've come to take showers." A flood of relief consumed my entire body. "Casey, Mom!" I cried, "thank God you guys came! I'm stuck in the shower stall!" A moment of silence fleeted by. They were processing. "You what?" She asked. I dreaded explaining my dilemma, but it had to be done. They had to understand so they could rescue me from my tiled prison. "I-I locked myself in the shower stall." I took a deep breath, "I can't get out." It was then that I heard hysterical laughing. I guess it was to be expected, but I still rolled my eyes, hands on my hips.

My mom and sister stood at the door of the bathroom, which they couldn't get into. I had the only key and was captured behind the obstinate door of a shower stall. My mom leaned as far as she could against the door of the bathroom and gave me instructions.

"Do you see the knob?" She asked. There was authority in her voice, as if she knew that she could leave me here in the shower stall to die if she wanted.

I rolled my eyes, "Yes, of course I see the knob Mom. I've been trying to turn it for nearly a half-hour"

"Listen carefully," she instructed slowly and clearly as if I were de-activating a bomb, "turn the knob counterclockwise, that's to the left."

"I know what counterclockwise means, mom!"

"Okay, okay. Will you just turn it?"

"Fine." Our exasperated voices echoed off the tiled walls in low, thunderous tones.

"Did you hear a click?"

"No??"wait, yea. It just clicked."

"Now," She commanded, "Turn the handle down, while simultaneously pulling back on it."

"It's not coming!" I yelled with all my strength. I wasn't feeling just hopeless now. I was feeling apathetically hopeless. Kind of like a man in the movies that is wounded and feels that he will just burden other people trying to rescue him. He wails and cries out, with the back of his hand smacked despairingly against his bloodied forehead, "you must go on without me, I'm just going to die anyway!"

"Hold on Tara, Mom's going to try and find someone with a key!" Casey yelled through the door. I gritted my teeth and sat back on the wooden seat, which creaked under my weight. I studied my surroundings for any other means of escape. There was a small space open above the door, but I couldn't crawl out of it without seriously hurting myself.
I heard more shuffling outside. Voices. They were coming closer. I recognized my Mom's voice, but there was another one too. A woman. She had a thick French accent.

Mom spoke first, "Do you have a key that we could borrow? For the bathroom."

Then came the reply of the Frenchwoman, "A key?"

"Yes, we need to get into the bathroom."

"I am sorry Madam, you need a key to get into the bathrooms."

"Yes, I know. We have a key, but it's with my daughter who is locked inside the bathroom."

"Your daughter is in the bathroom? But your daughter is there." The Frenchwoman pointed at Casey.

"No, it's my other daughter! She is locked inside the shower stall. Do you have a key?"

"No, Madam. I do not have a key."

I was shaking with silent fury. It was almost too much to handle, being locked up in a shower stall. I bet this is how it is in the slammer, I thought, shifting in myself into a different uncomfortable position. More voices came from outside the wall.

"Is there a guard here or someone that has a key to the bathrooms?" came my Mom's exhausted voice.

"A guard. Hmm... Oui, Madam. He comes at night."

"At night?" Came my Mom's "ho-hum" voice. It was 3:00 PM. So the only guy with a key comes at night? I couldn't wait in this stupid shower stall any longer.

"Mom! Get me out of here!" I cried, screaming each and every syllable with all my might. As I screamed, I looked up. I'm not sure why, maybe I was looking to God for an answer; maybe I did it subconsciously; maybe I just threw my head up in frustration. But when I did, a plan zapped its way into my brain. I saw the top of the smug yellow door, which had a small rectangular opening. If I climbed onto the bench seat, I could throw the key to my mom and Casey, who were standing outside the bathroom door, which was basically a big holey gate. They could get into the bathroom and maybe help me. "Mom!" I cried, "I have a plan!"

Sure enough, everything panned out just the way I thought it up. I tossed the key to my Mom and they were able to reach it with the aid of a broom-handle. After they came in my Mom pushed on the door, relieving the pressure on the lock and I was able to open it. After she got me out, I was overcome by a wave of pure ecstasy. I was free! I wondered if this was how convicts felt when they were set free. I vowed never to lock myself into a public bathroom again. But, through all of the horrific events, I walked out of the barred gates with a smile on my face. I had a blog to write.