I’ve been thrown into a well.
Since it’s been shut in for a few years, I did not fall into the water, rather than straight against wooden planks, flat down my back. Some droplets come down my face: those maggots decided to piss on me as well. I turn to my stomach in attempt to protect myself from that, but sadly the wood is wet not only with water from underneath, but from piss of others who came by here before. The smell is nauseating, but I have not eaten in quite some time, so it’s not like I have anything to puke.
I lie like that for some time. I think I even drift away into short sleep from exhaustion, but wind coming down here wakes up by its cold touch. I am now used to the smells down here and because of feel somehow sterile, as if nothing is around. Nothing.
And no one.
Yes, I’ve been alone for quite sometime as well. We hoped it would be a cool adventure to journey from our village to the city, miles and miles away. Stupid, naïve kids we were. World is full of people wanting to exploit that naivety. Bruno died of hunger like a week ago and I’ve been alone since, survived by pure luck of getting across some old dogfood. Extremely lucky, considering how deserted the place is.
Guess, I am the last of us five now. Well, there is Gretta, who may be alive yet, but I am sure she would rather be dead. I am sorry, Gretta, so, so sorry… We were so proud going on an adventure, saying that we would protect each other no matter what… But what could have we done against those adults? We had only an option to run, to survive ourselves, so that later, maybe, we could come back for you. We even contemplated how we could do that for some time.
But these are mere excuses. We failed you, Gretta. And I guess hardships before that were nothing compared to what happened after. Abandoning you drove a nail into our relationship. Otto and Jared got into a fight over that, Jared pushed Otto a bit too hard in an unlucky place, as well. Otto fell… His head hit a rock, he lost consciousness and… Never woke up.
Jared for scared half to death by that, but it, at least, showed once again, that he was the strongest of us. He tried using that fact to help us all. We did try to avoid adults, after what happened to Gretta, but that meant it even harder to get food and water: if we avoid them, no one will give them to us and the only way to get was to use vending machines, which require money. Jared tried to steal them. “I’m strong, I’m strong, I’m strong” – he chanted those words as if a spell to give him courage. It worked a few times, until it did not.
The man caught him and got angry. Jared tried to fight back, continuing to chant: “I’m strong” –, but the man laughed at him: “You? Strong?” – as he bludgeoned Jared’s face in. At some point his head exploded as if overripe fruit. And, yes, once again, me and Bruno, we were unable to move from fear, except for Bruno puking after Jared’s death.
It tormented him greatly. He could no longer even look at food. Not like we had any to begin with. We found some berries and I tried to shove some into Bruno, but he vomited them right back out. After all, he was able to live like that for about 5 days and even then, I had to help him walk most of the time. Had strength only due to crazy luck finding bits and pieces of some food here and there.
Luck.
Guess it’s the only thing going for me. It was luck that helped us escape the orphanage and follow some pipe dream of Otto’s about the city south from it, where kids live happily. It was luck, that adults those adults were interested in girls, and not boys, that we survived first mischief. It was luck, that the other adult did not see or hear us from behind the barrels, when he was fighting Jared. It was luck, that helped me keep going, until it ran out and some punks decided to have fun with me. Well there was a bit of luck in fact, that they did not beat me. Much. They teased me with the melting ice-cream, which was so excruciating to look at with this heat out there, and then just grabbed me by hands and legs, carried me like that to this well and throwed me in.
They said they wanted to see, if I will be able to crawl back out. I am sure they were disappointed, when I just lied there. Bet they yelled some cursing even, but I could not hear them. I could not hear anything from the ringing in my head, probably, from the fall.
Now there is no luck here anymore. And no one to help me either. Damn it all!
I smack my fist against the wood. I feel anger rising in me even more. I smack it again. Anger at myself and my powerlessness. Again – my hand starts to hurt a bit, but I do not care. Again – tears of desperation come out of my closed eyes. Again – I shut them even tighter, trying to stop the tears. Again – crackle of wood as one the of the planks breaks under my fist. Since my hand was in motion and my body was lying partially on this plank, I am unable to hold on and slip into the water.
Dazzled I am in time to breathe in only when I am underwater already. Instinctively I close my mouth, but some stagnant water burns my throat and small bruises on my arm, which broke the plank. I stay still in the murky water, unable to see anything but the slimy walls of the well. I am spinning a little, probably from the inertia of the fall, but otherwise I am as stagnant as the water now. I do not want to go on. It’s too painful…
I see some flickering light and follow it with my eyes: it’s coming from the hole, where I fell in. For some reason I feel excitement as fickle as that light and stretch my arm towards it, unable to reach. I move my legs slightly. I can’t even explain why I do. I reach the wooden cover, grab the edge of the hole and pull myself up, ignoring the pull of the water. I drop on the wood coughing the water out, air burning up my lungs.
The cover is now lit for some reason, so I look up trying to find the source – it’s the moon. The night was cloudy before and thus dark, but now, here it is, shining right into my final prison. Guess, it’s just my luck. It’s not even that funny, but I laugh at the moon, while lying on my back. Tears drop my cheeks once again, but now not of desperation. What is this? Is this what they call…
Hope?
But what should I be hopeful for? It’s not like I can get out of here, right?
I look to the side. Under the moonlight I can see the rocks laying up the walls of the well. They are like quite big bulky bricks, but they are not placed tightly or evenly, leaving gaps here and there. My hands and feet are quite small… Could I?.. I stand up shakily and walk up to the wall. Yes, my hands seem to fit, and I may be able to get just enough foot hold.
Hope, huh? But Why? Why would I bother? But… If I just die here, no one will care, right? No one will remember. But if I get out and survive, then what? I can help Gretta even if she is alive and what are the chances for me to reach the city Otto spoke of? If I reach it, perhaps… Perhaps I will be able to find people who would help others at the orphanage? Adults have already shown how cruel they can be, though, so can I even trust anyone? Maybe I will be able to find other children like me and we can make a band? And like, change things?
Laughable, right? Naïve, right? Me? Change anything? I am powerless and pathetic.
Then how come I am already halfway through the wall up despite how tired and exhausted I am? Is this what hope like? Is this how it gives one strength? It’s still not easy, though, my muscles ache and I feel like I can fall back down any time now, but something is pushing me to climb.
And I do reach the top. Last ounces of my strength are poured into the push to get over the well’s wall and onto the dusty ground. I curl, my body aching and shaking. I can’t seem to start the tears, as well. I need to rest now and then move on somewhere. Anywhere. I will need to keep moving to survive. Even if there is just a small chance of changing anything – I need to.
A cloud covers the moon, turning the light off. I laugh with some strange neurotic sound. Guess, this is just my luck to have the moon appear for so short a time. Just my stupid luck…
And hope.
