For what felt like eternity I crouched in the darkness of my cave, it's walls pulsating in a way that instilled terror deep within. Thoughts swirled overhead like winged demons, swooping down to claw at me and even higher than those I could hear what sounded like a beautiful world out there, just beyond the mouth of the cave which loomed far beyond my reach. For as long as I could remember I'd been here and had no idea whom or what had put me here, only that every effort to get out had been a failure. Each day I awoke and pondered, trying to come up with a plan. The circumstances left few options. The walls of my cave, smooth and hard as rock, were unclimbable, impenetratable.
Somedays I was content to draw on the walls with pale peices of stone.
Other days all I could do was lay there staring up at the chaotic dance of thoughts and listening to the far off sounds of what could be mine upon escaping: music, laughter, flowing water. These faded sounds cruelly teased me or encouraged me, depending on the day.

Sometimes I went through maniacal phases where I felt certain the answer was to dig a tunnel down into the ground, a tunnel that would eventually allow me to go beneath my cave walls and come up somewhere new and free. I would spend days frantically digging down into the dark coldness of oblivion, but no matter how far down I dug it got me nowhere but farther down into darkness with dirt caked under my fingernails and body cold and worn from the hard work.

I didn't understand, I wanted desperately to escape this place and I didn't even know why I was here. Some days I thought maybe I was meant to be here and should just accept it and learn to enjoy it. On these days I would then progress on to wondering what the hell to do with my time. So many days would come and pass with nothing to mark them, no goals to complete other than the one impossible to acheive. Time felt exhaustingly endless and I would realize being here was meaningless and empty and boring, though I had no choice. I spent most of my days completely miserable, desperate for that much longed for escape, yet no matter how my mind grasped for an answer... none came.

Then one day I heard a voice scream from above, from outside the opening, out where the people were free, I heard a girl's voice yell out in anguish "I CAN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE!" then she flung herself down towards me, and her body came down with a splat onto the ground in front of me. She'd had a great fall, and though I poked her body and made noises to try to catch her attention, she did not move nor make even the softest of breathing sounds. I cried. I screamed. I punched and kicked her. Over and over, I drew pictures of her body as it lay there. Driven to madness, I was certain the answer was in this corpse that lay before me: as though something above was laughing at me. I was maddened by confusion and rage and I could not let go of this terrible riddle. If there was a question, there was an answer and so round and round my thoughts did go swooping at me from above as I drew her again and again, never perfecting the shadows that dug meaning into the crevices of her exanimate face, but finding the only joy I'd never known in the attempts as my hands trembled and I got lost in the frenzy of creation. Her face became my face, tear stricken and my face became her face, empty of life, and I wondered if this was love, and slowly my body crumbled like the walls of my cave, and rain fell through the opening that did not really exist because it was out of reach and the place filled with a rotting smell that eventually faded to nothing as did her visage, transforming into a skeletal sculpture of pain and I drew that too and made a ritual of it, dancing and kicking her remains as I called to the gods for an answer that never came and I knew someday her fate would be mine, only it would befall me slower, and I prayed for that day.