10 May 2012
Real name: Rock Bottom. I'm Writing this because I've been there more than once and every time I have, I imagine this.
Looking up from the floor to which I fell, I can see black rock cliffs surrounding me, the clouds above are as black as coal. There is no sun here, the only light there is, is coming from the moon. How will I get up from this hellish pit? I here you ask that's the hard part. Still sitting on the floor I see a flower how does that survive down here? Just one single flower, the petal's as white as chalk, the stem and leaves as green as the lush grass of a tennis court. All alone it lives here in this abysmal black hole in the earth. I think to myself That humble tiny flower is brave and strong, that flower is hope, it shows you that even in the dark and dingiest of places beautiful things survive. The thought then dawned on me "I can do this I can get out of here"
I start to stand up, the cold black rock floor now beneath my feet I walk towards the closest cliff. I look up it's a few miles, it's going to take months maybe longer. I place my hand on the cold jagged surface of the cliff and climb, as I start I hear screams, it must be other people falling into another part of Rock Bottom, I hope they survive.
The morning comes, how do I know? Because the moon has gone, it's black, I'm blind with no light to show me the way. Shall I just give up now? Tears start to stream from my eyes, I feel so weak. Frozen into place with my numb hands latching on to the black cliff above my head and my feet on a tiny ledge below and a surge of hopelessness rushing through me. Giving up seems like the best option, but then I remember the flower hundreds of feet below me. My eye lids are heavy I'm so tired, but where can I sleep? I'm going to have sleep standing up I hope I don't fall, my eyes shut.
When I woke up the moon had risen, light! My weak hands still clutching to the same jagged rock it was clutching when I fell to sleep. My feet still frozen on to the same ledge, I move my hand searching the cliff face above for my next move. I pull myself up hands first, my feet following, I daren't look down, my feet have to find a ledge by themselves. Clambering up the cliff one move at a time, the way lit by moonlight, it feels so easy, I can do it. Then from the misery of the black clouds rain poured, the rocks now wet and shimmering in the moonlight. I look for my next move, placing my hand on the rock I see, I slip.
Falling into the abyss, the moon getting further away, is this the end? SMACK! I open my eyes slowly, one at a time it's Rock Bottom, again. Right in front of my eyes, there it was the flower, still standing with the rain pelting it's petals, it stood strong. I try to sit up pain flooded my body I was bruised and battered, down but not out. I slowly got to my feet and headed off for the cliff once again.
The rain still pelting down on me I look up at the daunting task ahead and begin. Steadily, hand, hand, foot, foot all finding there places in the black face of the cliff. Slippery though it was I continued scaling the face of the cliff, days and nights passed. I slept in the day and continued the difficult voyage at night. I guess you are wondering how on earth I survived with no food or water. My answer is rain water and determination. Day after day passed, each day I get further up, closer to the top. The times that I felt like giving up, I just thought of the flower miles below me standing amongst the gloom and depression. The thought spurred me on, the top of the cliff was almost within hands reach,then over the top came a troll, only a small skinny thing about the size of your average five year old child. It clambered down beneath me latching on to my leg with its yellow spear-like teeth. Trying with all it's might to pull me down, I wriggled my leg, by now the only thing holding me up were my hands. I kicked my leg again the horrid little thing still clutching on, it swung against the cliff face whaling as it's body crashed into the rock. I was slipping. One hand fell the troll grab it with his, I was so close to the top I'm not going to let this stop me. I tightened my grip with the only hand remaining on the cliff, and swung both my hand and leg that were in the grip of the troll. The troll fell whaling as it plummeted into the blackness.
I grabbed hold of the cliff with both hands and pursed the last leg of my exhausting excursion. My hands sore, I pulled myself over the top of the cliff. Blinded by the rays of the sun, there were fields of grass, the sounds of birds and laughter. It was happiness.
You may think my trek is over my friends, you're wrong, it has just begun and it's name is life. You may find yourself one day in that pit of despair, so let me tell you something... When you're at Rock Bottom the only way left to go is up.
The Great Black Pit • Opuss № I