Dark. Cold. Endless fear. Silence.
I stumbled and fell.
I fumbled for something to hold on to. There were only rocks and dirt.
Nothing.
There was nothing to see except the inky black that seemed to stretch to an endless alley, nothing to hear except my heavy breathing and my racing heart.
Sweat beaded on my skin and clung to my clothes, despite the cold that chilled me to the bones. I was covered in grime.
The stone itself was too cold, and everywhere, jagged rocks jutted out of the ground.
Silence echoed through under the mountain, but my soul was screaming, and no one could hear it.
My soul was thrashing and pounding to get out into the light.
My heart needed refuge.
My mind was getting rusty.
My body was surrendering.
But I stood up.
My knees buckled, but I managed to stay upright.
One step. I took one step.
Another.
Every part of me argued to just give up and curl up against the cold stone and be lulled to an endless sleep by the deafening silence.
But my soul.
My soul protested against my body, my heart.
It told me to go on.
Another step.
I closed my eyes.
Another step.
Little did I know that after a hundred steps, and a hundred more of falling down to find myself crawling on sharp stone, light awaited me.
With it, hope and beauty.