Dirt Was Raining On Me - The Cellar Journey Part 1
This is part 1 of The cellar journey, a multi-part fictional story. Click here to view all parts of the Cellar Journey.
Dirt was raining on me. I could hardly tell, there was so much blood I could only see red and it was out of my left eye because my right eye was swollen shut. I couldn't feel anything. I had been beaten so badly my body was numb. I felt dead, or at least as close as you possibly can get to being dead. The dirt continued to rain down. From the best I could tell, I was being buried alive. I had been Beaten til I was almost dead and then buried.
"Just kill me now." I thought to myself.
In some way, I felt like I deserved this. I didn't deserve to live, I was such a bad person. My heart had become so hard and I had been so terrible in my mind the best thing for me was death. I didn't want to be dead, I was just so guilt-driven I truly thought at some level I deserved death.
In fact, they were just doing what I wish I had the courage to ask them to do.
"Why did I think that. It wasn't right was it?" I thought to myself.
The loss of blood had me going in and out of consciousness. At that point, it might as well have been over. At this point, nothing else mattered. I started drifting off, thinking about everything that had led up to this point.
I took a deep breath and thought, "How did I get here?"
No, it wasn't right. I began to fight myself. I wanted out. I wanted rescue. I did not want to be where I was. I did not deserve this. I know it was indirectly my choice I had ended up here. I was young, I did not know what I didn't know. Why had this happened? Why? Just then I remembered, I had something. I had something that could help me out of this. Those friends, those people that I had encountered on my journey here, they said they would help. They gave me something.
Oh yeah, I forgot all about it. It was in my right pocket. I don't know what it was, but they said to push the button on it if you ever need anything. I lifted my arm up slightly to position my hand. Ahhh! My arm was clearly broken. In tense agony, I thrust my arm up onto my thigh. My fingers rested on the outer trim of the pocket. My fingers were also clearly broken and felt like they were giant balloons on my hand. I pushed my arm forward. The pain was too intense. My pocket was too tight. Maybe that was it, maybe I didn't deserve the help. I looked down towards my leg. The device had the bottom face out. I didn't need to put my hand in the pocket I could just hit it from the outside. Thank God, I whispered. I moved my hand to hit the button and poof. A shovel full of dirt landed right on my right leg where the button was. Nooo! I couldn't give up, I had to try one last time. I move my hand through the dirt towards the button. Did I get it, I couldn't tell. At that point, I passed out.
I was in and out of consciousness. I heard some voices, I heard sirens.
"Was it a dream, was I dead?"
My eyelids felt like a thousand pounds.
"Beep. Beep. Beep."
What was that noise? It sounded like...A hospital!
Yes! was I alright, was I saved?
I barely lifted my heavy eyelids and I could see some people. It was them! The people who had given me the button. I must have hit it. They came.
I was so relieved. I drifted out of consciousness.
There I was in the bottom hallway of my house. I was standing in front of the most unvisited part of the house. I was standing in front of the cellar door in my house. Over the years, the door had been covered up.There were boxes stacked up against it, and the dust had collected everywhere and the hinges on the door were so rusty the door could not be opened. Now I was standing in front of the steel door after I had cleaned up, oiled the hinges, and cleaned the area.
The problem was, the door was locked. Did I mentioned, it was a steel door. I was not going to be able to break in. I had to have the key.
"Where was the key?" I asked myself.
I had not been down here in so long I had no idea where I would have put it. I looked through the entire house and in every possible place. It wasn't until turning over the entire house that I realized there was only one spot I had not looked. My pocket. I had searched the entire house for the key, but I had not checked my own pocket. I reached down into my right pocket and I felt it, the key to the cellar door.
"How did it get there?" I asked myself.
So much of what had happened seemed so far away. I shrugged it off because now I was so excited to finally open the cellar door.
I unlocked the door.
A stench of old stale air consumed me. This was not going to be as fun as I thought. At that point, I realized it had been awhile since I was down here. I opened the door some more and peered down the steps of the cellar. I couldn't see anything, it was pitch black. I looked around the sides of the walls to see if I could find a light switch. It was too dark. I reached my hand into the hall and up against the wall. The dust and grime build up coated my hand as it ran along the wall searching for the switch. Click. I found it. I switched it on. Nothing. Oh no, the light bulb was bad.
I swiftly ran upstairs to the closet to find a flashlight and some replacement bulbs. This was not going to be easy. I kept asking myself, why am I going down into this cellar. Do I really need to do that? It's such a mess down there. How am I going to benefit from this? I tried to rationalize not going down there. It seemed so silly. Maybe I could just hire someone else to go down there and clean it. That would be a lot easier.
I found the flashlight and some bulbs. I guess I did it quickly enough that I was not able to convince myself to stay away. I wanted to know what was down there. I know there was some information that would help me. I had to do it.
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