Short, Light, Free

Chapter 43: Escape II

I tried recalling how I got in here. Was I thrown down from above?

I stood up and stared at the ceiling for a long time, but because of the light, I couldn’t see anything else.

I noticed a serious problem – I was losing track of time.

And I was quickly getting hungry. Each time that happened, I would rush to the metal bowl and gulp everything down.

I did not produce any excretion since the soup was barely sufficient to keep me alive.

At times, the house would tremble so I was convinced that it was located in an earthquake-active zone.

Yet, I was unable to send any message out.

I could only wait for the metal bowl to be filled up, time and time again.

One thing I was thankful for, though, was that this meager amount of soup made me lose some weight.

I was looking forward to fitting into the hole.

I wanted so badly to see what was on the other end.

I hoped for it to be an exit since I really had no other way out.

My routine became monotonous. I would simply sleep and drink my soup.

Recallable memories became scarce.

Initially, I could clearly see myself signing on contracts but as time passed, I started forgetting if it was a pen or a seal that I was holding onto.

And the other piece of memory – the kids’ faces – were long gone.

And the horse too.

As fragments started disappearing, I started resenting the person who threw me in here.

I wanted to crush his bones. What could I possibly have done to deserve this?

Why would he lock me in and torture me like this?

Without a watch or access to sunlight, I had no idea how much time had passed.

However, it was a fact that I was getting skinnier.

Weaker as well, and because I was sleeping so much, it became hard to move about.

I started some basic movements since I was afraid that a body that was too weak would hinder me from crawling out of the hole.

My hands were out of strength. They simply swung about like a jellyfish.

I started jogging slowly and throwing punches at the wall.

With much effort and persistence, I was gradually able to move freely.

Nevertheless, my memory was completely gone and I had even forgotten my own name.

Then again, I never knew my name from the start. All I could think of was a way to escape this hellhole.

I started comparing my size against the hole regularly, awaiting the day that I would finally be able to squeeze in.

Once, I fell asleep and was jolted awake by an intense tremor.

The whole house was trembling and I figured that a major earthquake was about to hit.

Without a choice, I consumed my last bowl of soup before throwing it aside.

I attempted to crawl into the hole. So close.

I held my breath and tried pushing myself in again.

The hole was extremely narrow and while I managed to fit in, there simply was no extra space within.

In spite of that, I had to wriggle to further in.

I got stuck, of course, but giving up wasn’t an option.

I was so sick of that place and all I wanted was freedom.

That alone was enough to keep me going.

The shaking never stopped. Was the house going to collapse?

I started forcing my way in despite the agony.

Regret set in. It would’ve been easier if I had just waited a little longer.

I brushed all thoughts aside as a soft, delicate voice entered my ears.

It sounded as though I had earplugs on and the voice seemed to be coming from the other side of the wall.

I listened carefully.

It was slightly echoey.

“Relax, don’t be nervous.”

“Deep breath, relax.”

“Almost there.”

…

Was someone encouraging me? Was that my own heart speaking?

I continued struggling my way in and I could feel my strength depleting.

My body was getting heavier every passing second and I was tempted to go back for the soup.

The voice returned and this time, I was certain that it wasn’t my own.

“Not happening. Cut it open.”

“It’s a premature birth. She fell and broke her water. Get her kin to sign this, it’s all ready.”

“Lives will be lost if you drag this on. Do it.”

…

I was at peace.

Like someone who’s finally reached the shore after being stranded at sea for a long time.

Like someone who came back from death’s door.

Light started illuminating my body and I realized that I’d never opened my eyes to begin with.

I felt a pair of huge hands grabbing and pulling me.

Pulling me out from the sealed room.

I was lifted and patted on the back.

I started crying. Wailing.

I was finally free.

“It’s a boy. 3.6kg, congratulations.”

Worth congratulating, indeed.

…

Years passed and I lost all memory of it.

I am still a kid and there were new things waiting for me to learn and remember.

Like how my father was a successful businessman while my mother was an art teacher in an elementary school.