The first thing everyone says to do in emergencies--earthquakes or house fires or if, say, you fall down an abandoned well out in the wasteland behind town--is to stay calm. “Stay calm, Kammie,” I tell myself. My voice echoes up the dusty tunnel to where The Girls are, safe on high ground. “HELP!” I scream. “MANDY KANDY SANDY!” No one answers me, but I know they are there. Unless they went to get help. That’s it. They went for help. Meanwhile, I am thoroughly wedged between the damp, rough walls of this stinky old well. I try to breathe slow, in and out. In and out. In and out. My heart beats. Nothing is broken, at least I don’t think so. So I guess I’m OK. I am OK. I will be OK. OK?
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