Statues, Stalactites and Escape

The only sound that echoed against the cold walls was the ‘drip drip’ of water off the tips of stalactites. The cave was so dark, not even the human eye could adjust to see the faint outline of objects. Only a single ray of light pierced the darkness, dancing about the floor like an ethereal being from another world, streaking across a small pool of water on the cave floor. The source of the light was a tiny opening in the ceiling of the cave, but it was so high up, so far away, it appeared to be the size of a mere pinhole.

Cold, marble statues of angels and saints stood in the room, moss clinging to their surface, growing slowly. They had been left unmoved for thousands of years, silent and alone except for the company of one another. Suddenly, in the deepest corner of the room, a stirring sound broke the sole noise of the falling water.

Out of the shadows a young boy emerged, clad in tattered rags. Crawling across the frozen ground, his hand splashed the water, the beam of light highlighting his mop of brunette hair. He stopped at the feet of the statues, staring up at their empty, blank eyes, searching for some sort of solace and hope.

How many years had passed since he had come to this hell, this lost cave? How had he even arrived there? It had been so long that he had forgotten. He only knew that days had turned into months and had now become years. He weakly pulled himself to his feet, coming only to the knees of the statues. He squinted his jade eyes as the light danced onto his face, mud caked over his cheeks. Deciding to give it one more try, he reached up, digging his fingers into the cave wall while rats scurried beneath him.

The wall was slick, covered with cold water and a slimy substance, with few ledges or holes for one to grip and stand on. That had always been his demise when he tried to escape. There was just no way. The boy continued to try though, refusing to give up hope, for it was all he had left. His pale body seemed to glow against the wall as he scrambled further up, now above the heads of the statues, yet still the opening to the cave seemed so high up. He grew closer and closer, blood staining the wall as he scraped his knees against the hard stone. He was so close when he felt his hand slip, causing his feet to loose their grip.

The frail boy dangled against the wall by one hand, trying so hard to regain his composure and to hold on, yet the water caused his fingers to slowly slip. He was swiftly falling now, the ground coming up beneath him and he could only brace himself for the painful impact.

Yet the impact never came. Frozen hands held onto his body, lifting him back up into the air, higher and higher. Glancing down in shock, he realized the statues were holding on to him and were using one another as steps to lift him to the cave opening. He was almost there. He could feel the golden warmth of the sun- a sensation he hadn’t experienced in some time. Everything was bright, brilliantly colorful, so much he had to close his eyes briefly as his body was pushed through the narrow opening. Glancing back down, he swore the statues smiled at him before they crumbled into pieces, the stones scattering all over the cave floor.

Whispering a quiet thank you, the boy looked upwards at the open blue sky, wispy clouds floating past him. A sparkle that had long been dead returned to his eyes as he stood up and began to stretch. He cast one last glance back at his prison before he turned and began to walk back home.