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I strain my ears for movement or any unusual noise, but there’s nothing but the soothing roar of the crushing waves.
A horrible thought occurs to me. What if this cave floods with the tide? I don’t know how much time I’ve spent in here. I assume it’s late afternoon by now.
I move as quietly as I can to the gap in the rock and carefully peek out through the opening. The sun is hanging low in the sky and thankfully the water still seems far enough away.
I’m much calmer. Not long now before I can resume my escape.
I sit down in my previous spot and open my makeshift rucksack. The pizza, though cold, smells delicious and saliva pools in my mouth. I eat all of it and leave the bread for later. Opening a bottle of water, I only just realize how thirsty this journey has made me.
My eyes suddenly droop. They’re so heavy, and I struggle to keep them open. I should use this downtime to think about what to do when I finally reach a house. Will they be waiting for me there? If I ask for help, would whoever lives there call my captor?
I’m overwhelmed. There’s too much to think about, and my brain feels like it’s coated in fairy floss.
With a heavy sigh, I admit to myself that I need a brief rest. With a full tummy and the adrenaline rush ebbing from my body, I feel tired beyond belief. I wrap the tablecloth around me for warmth and close my eyes… just for a little while.
I fall into an uneasy sleep, wondering what will await me when I wake up.
My body is aching. Rocks really don’t make much of a bed.
It’s completely dark now, and I’m cold. How long was I asleep for? I feel along the ground for the remaining food and water and gather them against my chest. Carefully, I make my way to the cave opening and peek out.
All seems calm.
With a steadying breath, I squeeze through the gap and enjoy the soft breeze for a moment, inhaling deeply.
It’s a clear night and hundreds of stars brighten the firmament. The Milky Way is clearly visible, and the quarter moon illuminates the night enough to see where I’m going. I see a few lights in the far distance.
God, they seem days away.
My brain tells me they’re not, but I can’t help feeling a little disheartened.
Best to get on with it. The cover of night won’t last forever.
I push the serviette-wrapped bread into one of my dress pockets and the water bottle in the other. Then I fasten the belt around my waist again and wrap myself in the tablecloth. The night air is fresh, and I’m glad for the little warmth my makeshift blanket provides. As I start my journey toward the lights, the hope of finding help is fresh and alive.
My progress in the dark is arduous and slow. I have no idea how long I’ve been walking, but my body is telling me it’s been way too long. I’m aching all over and long to soak in an Epsom salt bath.
I try to ignore the pain and hum Bob Marley’s song“Every little thing is gonna be all right”to distract myself.
Ma and Da were avid hikers, especially when we lived in the Austrian Alps. The three of us always sang together when I got tired and didn’t want to walk anymore. It worked every time, and I’d forget my weariness.
Over and over again, I sing the lines of the song. The rhythm soothing and giving me something other than my exhaustion to focus on. I know Ma and Da are with me right now, giving me strength and cheering me on. I’m grateful.
Bit by bit, the lights are getting closer, and I should reach them within the next hour… not that I have any way of measuring time, but an hour seems doable when everything in me screams to give up.
As I draw near, I realize the houses are on top of a cliff with no obvious way up.
Shit. Now what?
I’m exhausted after hours of treading over uneven terrain and worrying about how I will get myself out of this fiasco.
But I can’t give up now. So I keep following the shoreline until finally the stones turn to sand and a small beach lies ahead.
A slight unease in my abdomen makes me stop, and I sit down in the shadows to just observe for a while.
Act in haste, repent in leisure, Da always used to remind me.
There’s no one on the beach and all appears deserted.
