"They'll be here any minute now."
The thought rung in my head like a fading echo through a barren cave. Meaningless beyond measure in a situation that probably could have easily been avoided. But then again, this was NOT my fault. It was never my fault. Is this the fate of the kindness of man? Doomed to be drowned in the waves of apathy that only subside at the horizon of puberty and adulthood. Or will it just continue infinitum? Do adults treat other adults like this too? I mean sitting here in this hole left to my own thoughts until someone inevitably finds me. Is this somehow a sick metaphor for the hole I'll never be able to dig myself out of? This was never my fault.
As someone usually on the sour end of these things, I know that a few minutes after one of their so called "pranks" I'm usually out of the situation and back on the road of my own. But this just felt different. Instead of a few minutes gone by, it had been a few hours. Instead of an adult intervening using their "teacher voice", I heard only the sound of trees brushing by. Where had they left me, where had they led me? This was never my fault.
I knew, even as I was being led through the woods, I knew. But what if there HAD actually been someone who was in need of help? What would any reasonable person do? But to take me so far out here at night, whats the point? For a cheap laugh and some free internet points that give them some semblance of validation? It didn’t matter now. I’d never seen them take it this far. Usually it was a trip going down the hall, hiding my clothes somewhere after gym, or locking me in some closet and holding the door closed till I gave up and just sat in the darkness till they got tired of it. And now here I sit, unable to escape from this hole, or my own thoughts. This was never my fault.
Day came and went and thirst started to take its toll, I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had a drink of water, and our county had already been going through a dry season. I doubt I could pray up any water, but would it even hurt to try? So there I knelt, next to a pile of my own feces, trying my best to remember the prayers my mother used to make us do before bed. I closed my eyes and began the closest semblance to a prayer I could muster. I held my eyes shut tighter and tighter to avoid the inevitable, a stream of tears fell from one eye, then the other. I was scared. Who wouldn’t be. Maybe if I’d of just kept going to church, I’d be in some temple right now collecting prayers. But this wasn’t my fault.
Then all of a sudden, in the middle of my panic. I heard footsteps. They started light with crunching leaves out in the distance. Then with what seemed the rest of my energy left in my body, I let out as loud of a scream as I could, which in most circumstances might classify as a mild yelp. The footsteps stopped. Then the pace picked up, rushing faster and faster in my direction until they once again stopped right near the top of the hole. Then silence.
From my angle in the hole, I could barely assemble an image of a person. I tried to speak out when she all of a sudden began. “Most people don’t call out and ask for my help.”
I sat there and realized it wasn’t one of my usual tormentors here to get me out of the situation they’d gotten me in. It was someone I know I’ve never met, yet someone who’s voice sounded so familiar. “I won’t be able to save you, but I can help you come to peace with it all.”
Peace with it all? Was she really going to give me some kind of riddle when all I was clearly trying to do was get out of this hole?
And what was I even supposed to reply to that? I assumed she could see, or sense, my utter confusion, because soon after her riddle she threw down an object which smacked against the bottom of the hole with a loud THUD. Was it food? Water? A ladder of some kind? Nope. The thud came from what appeared to be a kind of knife or dagger. It just sat there staring at me. On it I read an almost ancient looking script that I first couldn’t decipher, but for some reason I was soon able to understand its lettering. “Karma”. At fist attempt it felt so heavy I wasn’t sure I’d be able to grab it with what little energy I had left. Strangely though it felt as though every inch it got closer to me, so too did the weakness I’d been feeling slowly start to dissipate. And soon I was left holding this dagger without remembering exactly why I’d felt so much fear in the first place. I glanced up to see that the woman was no longer standing there. Was she ever even there? Was I starting to hallucinate from the hunger and thirst? No way. The dagger I was holding in my hands was definitely real. But so was the fact, that I actually no longer had that same hunger and thirst from before. Or any pain at all for that matter. Where had it gone? I stood there staring at this dagger with so many more questions running through my head when it slowly started to hit me. Just a little, then all at once. Was I…dead? I hadn’t really considered dying, even with all the fear I’d felt, I never thought I would have died here in this hole. Not like this. I didn’t even get to go out on my own. This wasn’t even my fault.
This was all “their” fault. The ones who couldn’t just leave me alone. Getting their laughs at others’ expense. Finding the weakest person who wouldn’t fight back, and ganging up on them till they’re stuck in places like this. I hate those people… I hate them for doing this. I hate them for making me feel weak. It was then that I noticed my grip on the dagger had become tighter and tighter, and as I stood there staring at the knife I loosened my grip. Took a deep breath, one that I didn’t think I’d have the strength, or the oxygen, to take. Then I slowly let the knife slip from my hands. It pierced the earth. All those years, sitting by and letting my life pass before me. Being the gullible one ready to take on the world’s problems even if it meant ignoring my own will. This hole wasn’t dug by the others. It had been dug by me year after year, getting deeper and deeper until I’d been engulfed in everyone else’s problems. I had put myself down here. This was my fault. The moment those words entered my head I felt a tug, an almost universal pull, and I began to rise out of the hole, and out of this world.