The Rope

It was calling out to him; beckoning him closer.

Wary blue eyes once again flickered towards the forboding stone well. It looked like a monument beside the abandoned construction site. It would be good shelter for him to stay here for a few days, maybe to make his parents worry a bit. That should teach them to yell at him again! Them and their stupid rules. They never nagged Sarah HALF as much as they did to him. Andrew, do this... Andrew, do that...

But the well. Andrew leaned over to peek inside, all he could see was blackness. There seemed to be no sound coming from inside it and it made him wonder just what was so special about this water-hole. He'd seen many before, countless times, in fact; but there was something about this one that tugged at the little boy's heart, made him want to just do more than just give it a glance. Andrew eyed the bucket in front of him before reaching out, careful to balance himself properly on the stone walls.

He felt the imbalance just as he grabbed the rusty bucket; his sneakers not giving him enough grip to cling onto the wall as the soles were already long worn out due to his bad habit of dragging his feet across the ground. As he teetered over the edge, his mind only had one thing to register, he either fell into the well, or might as well just crack his head open by giving an extra jump over to the other side. His body wasn't quick enough to decide for him.

He fell, for how long, he didn't know. He wildly flapped his arms and legs, hoping to at least defy gravity and shoot up to the sky, but only causing himself to bruise as skin met with harsh brick. Darkness was now all that surrounded him, the light from the opening now seemed so far away. He fell deeper with a splash and yelled loudly as excruciating pain shot up his leg in which he landed on, feeling lucky that the jeans material was tough and didn't tear away and allowed him to break his leg. The pungent smell of the mixture of moss and murky water invaded his nostrils, refusing him a breath of fresh air, almost suffocating him entirely. He could hear the whisper, the laughing taunts of the wind above and the cackling scutter made by a stray mouse far down in the earth. The haunting drops of water, making a 'plink' sound did not make him feel any better. The first thing that came to his mind was to scream, and scream he did, feeling the sound ricocheting around the closed walls, making his head ache terribly. He could feel the water seeping into his jeans, he estimated that the water level was around his waist if he stood up, so it wasn't that deep after all.

He stopped his cries of help when his throat threatened to burn itself hoarse. A part of Andrew hoped to hear loud voices and thumping footsteps heading this way. He heard nothing. All was silent except for the constant ghoulish drip-drip-dripping of water. He never knew what it was like to be blind, the unawareness of anything in front of you, the humiliation that you couldn't see anybody, but they could you, the fear of the oppressing darkness. Andrew hated the dark. He silently craned his head to see the small circle of light above. Why was nobody coming to his rescue? Did anybody even know that he was there? Didn't they hear him? He started to sob, his hands wringing themselves as he thought of his unknowing parents.

Gruesome creatures flittered into his head. Evil monsters of childish nightmares flashed before him. He was alone! It was dark! They always attacked in the dark! He began to scratch furious marks on the wall as a means of escape, feeling the sticky hard algae between his nails. He didn't want to think of what was in here with him, he was already feeling claustrophobic in this hell-hole.

"They love little boys!"

The words of his sister rang laughingly in his ears. He didn't like it here, he wanted to go home! The tears came down harder, then reduced to shameless shaking jerks. He had to scratch harder, scratch! He felt something long slither past his legs in the water and he recoiled in horror, splashing about in the water, wanting to drive them away. What were these beings? Eels? Snakes, maybe? Or maybe long slimey worms? He shuddered inwardly before suddenly feeling bullet-like pistols splash into the water, making tremendous plopping noises. Looking up, he didn't see anything, except for large drips of water. Rain. It was raining.

He could already feel the water level rising from his waistlength to his chest and he felt trapped. Andrew was a clever boy, he knew he wouldn't survive if he stayed here any longer. As lighting flashed, so did an idea. Using the lightning as a poor source of light, he was sure that he could climb out of the well if he tried hard enough. There were plenty of nooks and crannies just the right size for his small foot. It was just the thunder he had a problem about. What if he froze in shock and fell into the well once again? Andrew shook this thought out of his head. No time for that, as he ascended the wall carefully, cringing everytime a crack of thunder would echo around the well, the enclosed space making it a thousand times more loud.

“Careful, careful! Now, heave!”

Muttering himself encouragements, he didn’t know how he managed to get so near the top. He was nearly out, just a bit more! Just a few more climbs to go. The boy pulled himself up slowly, before he was right there! Almost! His breath was leaving him fast and he saw the bucket above his head. He knew that the rope was fastened to the cog, he had noticed that there was a firm knot there when he was admiring this macabre castle. He only needed to climb into it and then swing himself across to the top, Andrew wasn’t sure he would fit, but he was a small boy, surely it would hold him! He reached for the bucket and pulled himself inside. It was a tight fit, but he managed if he squatted just a little bit... there. Now all he needed to do was to rock it gently to create momentum.

He swung himself carefully back and forth as to not create another chance for him to fall back inside. His face was red and his chest heaving with all the effort he had gone through. It took him minutes to get the tempo steady, as the occational thunder would make him freeze in his place. He rose higher and higher. He raised his hands to grab onto the ledge. Nearly there, nearly--

The rope snapped, its frayed edges could not stand the weight of the rocking boy. He lunged for the edge, it was almost an imitation of what had happened earlier. Almost. Just almost.

He didn't even get the chance to scream before the darkness engulfed him once more.

6/2/2005