It had been a long climb, one made with blood and tears. It seemed so long ago that she had fallen into the abyss, but it had only been a short time. She had allowed herself the comfort of the cold, dark hole she had fallen into, but the light had been too tempting, too warm.
She had started the climb quickly, finding hand and footholds easily. But they started becoming harder to find, and she had had to rest on the narrow ledges she had come across. Those ledges now seemed further and further apart, the walls smoother and harder, the handholds almost nonexistent.
She was closer to the light than she had been in quite a long time and its gentle glow and warmth occasionally bathed her darkened world. This was something she earned for and she was trying with all her strength to reach it. But sometimes, the dark cold overtook her and she would huddle on her ledge waiting for the next respite.
It was at those times she would contemplate what had brought her to the edge of the abyss, looking down in with horror at the darkness she saw. How she had slipped into it, she was still unsure. But the darkness had overwhelmed her for a time. It had taken every last ounce of strength to start the climb.
She sat with only a short distance to go, looking at the shear wall, digging her own handholds, hoping for a rope to be thrown to her. But this was her fight, and it was such an isolated spot, that there was no one to help, no one to even know she was there.
And so she struggled, trapped in the darkness, ever looking upwards at the golden glow that was her goal. She was on the final ledge, not much more to go, seeking some way to climb out without the struggle she had already fought. She piled the rocks and stones one atop the other, climbing, reaching for the edge, but it was always out of reach. And so, she rested another day, another week. The attempts coming further apart. She decided that one last attempt would be made, that where she was now was not so bad. The light was more a part of her world than it had been, and she sometimes swam in the warmth.
And so with only a little fight left, she tried again. But what was this? A hand reaching down to her, someone telling her to take it, that they would help her through this last little climb.
Eagerly, she grasped the strong hand reaching down to her, face unseen, only a warm voice to guide her. And she struggled to climb out, the smooth walls surrounding her making her climb difficult. She held tightly to the hand, not wanting to lose the strength being offered.
She was never exactly sure what happened next. A buzzing bee, perhaps another walking close, maybe she had held to tightly. But a distraction had occurred and the warm voice and strong hand had abruptly been pulled away.
As she fell back down into the darkness, she wondered if the fight was worth the effort. And so she sat, huddled on a ledge, in the darkness, looking up at the light
© May,1999, AMD