by Deb Stratton
Hemp lasts forever so it will blend in and show me the way back to this area.
I tied one on a branch and try to use a sparkly rock to carve my name. E M short for Emily. Good enough for now. I always liked Em better anyway. I had always wished for my initials on a tree. Preferably it would be through the old-fashioned method of my greatest love stenciling it on. This worked for me and I loved it. Carving into the bark less tree was much easier and did not require a large knife. Just a rock.
I was walking deeper into the path and I picked up my energy level enough to jump over some downed trees like an Olympic hurdler.
Hopping and skipping all the way until I fell.
I was falling through the ground rubbish, through some sticks. This is not
my average being clumsy fall. It seems to me that I just fell about 20 feet into some sort of old well. My back is scratched and even though it has happened quickly, I feel like I hit my head.
After a quick glance I noticed my knuckles were bleeding a bit. It is not too far down and still judging by some episode I seen on the Hunting channel surely this is not really a big deal. I liked the survivor challenge and am angry at myself for not checking the ground strength while jumping around. Sometimes I amaze myself at my judgment calls in life.
Looking around it seems that it is a circle of rocks all around me. This hole that I have fallen into reminds me of an old well. It must be.
I could climb 20 feet to get out if I could find something to grab a hold of.
At least there is no sign of water or rats. That would make my day go
downhill fast. I wish I had my phone. I felt that my photo opportunity for looking up out of this well at those trees would be an amazing profile photo. Bummer.
I started thinking of ways that would help me to get out of this hole. It seemed to me that nothing could really happen that was too terrible. I was sure there had to be other walkers and runners nearby. They were probably even close enough to hear my screams if I tried.
I am an anxious person that should have probably been medicated years ago and this may be the one time that makes me regret that decision. As I look up to devise some sort of plan, the light seems to be disappearing. Covered up more and all I see is more darkness. Screaming. “Help, please.” I cry. “If someone is there, please come back.”
I am sobbing and freaking out is my new middle name.
What is happening? What did I fall into? It is getting darker. Maybe it is just the clouds moving in. Why didn’t I bring my dog or my phone?
I answer myself, “Because I am only a mile from my house.” Panicking and breathing were in sync.
I am literally closer to my house than the local gas station. My thoughts are racing. Breathe. Breathe.
After I calm myself enough to stop crying and stay hopeful, I sit thinking that I have nothing to eat. Why am I always worried about food? What if I am here for a while? I have my water bottle hooked on, but how long will that last? And what about my fear of bugs and spiders? Is this a test? Did I fall into my worst fears test?
Was there a crazy person that followed me down the path? My thoughts are still running through my mind quickly and my heart is beating so fast I can barely function.
Was someone up there? NO, the answer is no. I know that no one was following me. I know that this is not a test. It is my bad luck and I must find a way to get out.
I have no idea why the hole is covered up, thinking maybe it was a spring trap? For bears? Visions of a bear falling on my head any moment is real, and yes, I forgot to pick up that bear spray. I should have not watched that movie. Although at this point, I am thinking what will get me out of this hole and save my life is the fact that I have watched those scenarios play out.
This is my day and fearfully my new challenge. Here I am sitting in a big hole that echoes and is now covered so no one can hear me. Next correct thing to do is pray. I should have done that first. “Please Lord, let me find a way out of this hole in the ground”, I cry again. “Please, send someone to look for me.”
“Please?” I sit and wait. Nothing. Not that I expect an immediate answer to my plea for help. I think I must accept the fact I may be here for at least an hour or so until someone misses me. While praying and crying, I am thinking maybe no one will miss me. I am having a conversation with myself that is not aiding me in any way.
About an hour has passed and I have discovered that this well or hole has excellent echo capabilities for singing. I never could really sing well but enjoy singing loudly when no one is listening. I am really feeling quite paranoid at this point and even though I had never thought of myself as a claustrophobic person, I am feeling the effects of being trapped and stuck in the hole. I am feeling cold and clammy even though it is a hot summer day.
I try to get a grip on anything I can to climb up, and there is just nothing useful. I hear something. I hear a voice. I am sure of it. It does not sound like it is above me though. It is sounding like it is
at my level. Quiet I tell myself, like placing a glass to a wall to listen. I was listening more. What is that? I hear someone.
Maybe I am losing my mind. I knew that would happen eventually in my life.
But today? Really? I did not want to face that this morning. I had bacon and sunshine and now this.
I continue to feel around, and I discover something unusual. The bricks or stones that were used for this hole are old and rough. They have no moss or slimy residue. So maybe this is not an old well. Maybe it is a bear trap. I hear it again. It is a man. I hear him. It sounds distant but still not above me. Ear to wall, focus on the sound. What is that person saying? I cannot make it out.
I am interrupted again by the loud sounds of the wall opening. The wall next to my head opens and hands are reaching in.
Big hands. Very large animal like hands.
I am relieved to have some type of interaction with anyone and am not thinking in my right mind. I am not leaving this hole by going up, but by going to the side.
I am crying and pulled through this opening only to discover a world no one could have ever dreamed existed.
Chapter Two
I am not sure how long I have been unconscious. I am not sure if I fainted from fear or if I hit my head. What is really happening here? It is warm, and the smell is almost farm like. I am surrounded by the same brick walls that were in that well. Not a modern-day brick but a dirt packed brick wall.
Glancing around I notice there appears to be others, many others, busy working. I notice tunnels and large work areas. There were some sort of small windows or holes. A small ray of sunshine was coming into my area. Gone again. The rain must be back again.
To the right I notice there seems to be other cot like beds, like the one I am laying on with others on them. Am I underground?
I find that the atmosphere is primitive. It is noisy, almost like being
in one of the atrium buildings at our local zoo. Echo's and smells. Not bad smells all at once but occasionally it will waft by.
There were conversations and laughing. I speak out, "hello?’ A man on the cot just a few feet from me looks and is trying to give me some sort of eye contact. He does not speak back. "Hello, can you tell me what is happening?” I try again. "If you can hear me, please tell me something, anything? Why are we on these cots?” Should I get up? There is nothing holding me here. I could just get up and walk away.
I am not sure where the door is but there are hallways with mulch type flooring and vines. There are more holes and trickles of light coming down. I get a glimpse, of some type of movement. I want to scream, and my eyes fill with tears. I really had wished I still smoked. I could really enjoy that right now.
I see a large man, which is more beastlike than anything. He was much
taller than most men and very hairy. Well hairy is the simplest of words that I may use at this moment as I want to know what is going on and how to get back to where I was on my jogging path. I am fearful but not as panicked as I th
ought I would be. I am thinking more now of survival and how to get out.
The large manlike person is also not completely human in my eyes. He is close enough now to say something. He is holding something. I must be hallucinating because I am underground on a cot with a large hairy man standing near me with a smile. I must be crazy. I am going to talk to him. "Oh sir, may I ask you a few questions?”
The large man waves down the hall and a more feminine version approach. His wife? Coworker? What is it? Something is deeply strange and as she comes into sight and gets closer, I almost feel relieved. It was a woman. I can feel more comfortable with this situation. I am also still looking around
continuously.
The others like me that are lying on their cots just stay there. They keep looking but do not speak. Why are they not speaking? They do not really look afraid or medicated. The young hairy woman approaches me. And she speaks! In a lovely voice that sounds like she has smoked for 50 years. She announces that her name is Barka.
I do not understand this. She has a name. She is living and breathing and speaking to me. I want her to tell me that this is all a mistake and that I will be dropped off at my house shortly.
But then Barka speaks again. "We are happy to have you here. You will be assigned a number tomorrow.” Then nothing else.