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.
