For a brief moment, you consider conceding to your mother’s wishes and cleaning your room without a fuss. You pick up a stray pair of boxer shorts, and thin mold hugging it’s underside and producing a stench only a plumber could be comfortable with. You decide to fuck this shit, someone else can clean your room.
You collapse on your bed and scatter the sheets. You miss your girlfriend deeply; it’s been two days since you last saw her gorgeous chocolate locks, plus she’d probably clean your room if you begged her long enough. You stare at the lock on the door and curse the day anyone decided to protect their belongings. If that guy was so scared of losing his stuff, he should have just been born as muscular as you and beaten up anyone who tried to take any of his crud.
You get up, the sound of cheeto bags crinkling underneath your bare feet. You look at the lock. It’s actually pretty fancy for something that’s meant to oppress you. Several precious jewels are encrusted within, or at leas some sort of imitations. Thin lines of gold spiral around its square frame. Looking at it kinda makes you dizzy.
Wait a minute, if the lock is on your side of the door, how the hell is your dad supposed to ever let you out? That fucker trying to make you starve or something!? You tug at the lock, applying all the energy you can exert on the chains, every myofibril of your body contracted in fury. Not a single h-zone was left after your efforts, but all you managed to do was tire yourself out. The dumbass chains didn’t even budge, what a waste of time!
You look around your room for something of use. A bobby pin strikes your attention; you can pick a lock with that!— er, at least you think that’s true. You jam the pin in the lock and jiggle it around a bit. Nothing happens. You resort to going on google and looking up how to pick a lock.
Not a single damn thing in that page made any sense to you, and you’ve already got some random pin shoved inside the lock. It’s obvious none of your skills will work with the damn thing. The only option left now is the window, or you could contact one of your friends on the computer to see if they can help, though it would make you look terribly lame.
What will you do?