Hang On Tight, You Might Get There
By Niro Siriwardena
Word Count: 1, 100

The moist air alone brought gentle tremors along his spine. Brian turned around and faced the gaping mouth of the cave. The dancing sunlight rays were calling out to him. Ironically, Brian had only been in the dim, musky cave for less than a minute, and yet he yearned to inhale the fresh air he knew was waiting for him. Turning his back on his desire he faced his goal - finding it again.

Always have a precise goal in life. Without dreams and goals, you will find yourself lost. Keep that in mind.

Flicking the switch on his head torch enabled him to see only a mere three metres ahead of him, but Brian knew it would have to do. Briskly shaking himself to release a part of his fear, Brian took one step forward and slipped on an inanimate object. Looking back immediately he realized it was a stone, the same stone Brian had, as put by his friends, “ever so gracefully” tripped over, landing him flat on his face. While taking a brief moment to catch his breath Brian noticed a sturdy stick to the left of him which could be used to give him support on this hike. He seized it, picked himself up off the floor and continued with his journey.

Always keep your friends close Brian; they can help you in times of need.

Although Brian had only visited the cave once before, he felt better prepared for the seemingly endless path that lay before him. As he stepped through the dense flooring of the cave, Brian could not help but notice the shadows move as he moved. As his vision travelled forward the shadows of various stalactites and stalagmites reverted back to their original form, melting backwards into the darkness. He was uncertain to whether to trust the insubstantial imitations, whether they truly represented their real forms. Shifting this thought to the back of his mind, he focused on the task on hand.

You know what Brian? It was only when I was around your age did I realize that things aren’t always what they seem. Sometimes you have to see things with your own eyes.

He was uncertain what was causing the beads of sweat to form on his forehead, was it the humidity or was it pure fear that seemed to creep back at every attempt to obliterate it? Whatever it was, Brian was not certain, and with that, he wiped away the concoction of fear and humidity with his sleeve.

A colony of bats came screeching out of the shadows. Brian spun his head torch toward where the bats seemed to be zipping past. He was only able to catch a glimpse of what he knew there were more of. Knowing that only sometimes you are given a clue to what lies ahead, Brian pressed on.

After what seemed an eternity of walking, Brian came to a halt. In front of him stood a fork in the path. He could not recall which passage he had taken the last time but Brian’s intuition was hinting that it was the left fork which held the correct track. Kicking aside a broken branch that half blocked the sodden and darkening path, Brian thought of his family - how astonished they would be that he attempted to bring it back and how proud they would be at the same time.

There comes a time in life where a choice has to be made, Brian. Choosing is sometimes a matter of guessing, and when it is, you better wish upon your lucky stars.

But this thought instantly vanished as he turned back to face the pieces of branch sitting innocently next to a stalagmite. Brian knew that he must have walked at least a kilometre in and there were no signs of flora around. How does broken piece of a branch find its way into a cave by itself? Brian squatted and allowed his light to rake over the woody surface. Studying it, he realized that it was as sturdy as his walking stick, but had snapped somehow. Someone else had walked this path before, discarding their broken support along the way.

Sometimes your friends may leave you. Your journey through life will become difficult after that.

This made Brian tighten his grip on his stick, hoping it would never break as it was his support, as it had helped him so far on this journey.

Up ahead Brian could hear a faint noise, as if someone had not closed a tap properly. He quickened his pace and soon found himself facing what seemed an underground lake. His light allowed the jade surface to become visible. Brian perched himself on a steady rock and let his torch roam, searching for a way around the lake. But soon he was mesmerized by the stillness of the water, its colour and its distinctive sparkle in the artificial light.

Brian slowly regained focus and he once more sought for a path that would help him make his way to the other side, where the trail visibly continued. Doubt began to overwhelm his mind, clawing at the little certainty that remained. Brian was sure that there had been no lake of this size when he visited here a little over ten years ago. At last Brian spotted a dry section of land that was next to the wall of the cave.

Time changes things, Brian, but nothing can change time.

As he drew closer to his new found bridge, he noted that it was narrower than it had looked when further away. Nevertheless Brian carefully placed his foot down and made his way across with the help of his staff.

As Brian progressed further on his journey he made many decisions on which forks and turns in the path to take. Left, right, left fork, right, right fork - with each turn there seemed to be more pieces of wood littered on the ground, broken and thrown away. Soon Brian lost track of the number of forks and turns he had taken. It was then he knew he would never make it back out.

No real goal, no real way.

The labyrinth soon ended. Brian faced a dead end and he knew there was no turning back. Realizing the journey was over; he sat down. There was a sliver of hope that struggled to escape the depths of his heart, but Brian stayed oblivious to its existence. He placed his staff down beside him, keeping it close.

And waited.

Waited for someone to take him away from here.

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I only found out at recess that the reflection statement was meant to be around 200 words and that 200 words was not the minimum. This supremely sucked because my reflection was around 500 words. Blargh.

It felt weird, handing in my short story. I enjoyed it and I didn't feel like giving it to someone who will judge and mark it. It's probably the only assignment I was happy and enjoyed doing, as opposed to many of the hundreds we recieve.

Oh and by the way, there are several things in my story which will confuse people.

[Copied from reflection statment]

I have to admit the hardest part about this task was finding a suitable title. It was suggested to me that I incorporate the phrase “Stalactites hang on tight, stalagmites might get there” into by title. This phrase is commonly used to distinguish between stalagmites and stalactites. After experimenting I came to the title Hang On Tight, You Might Get There.

To be honest, not even I know. I want it to be a wise relative or friend of Brian's but I did not want to label it. So I left him/her nameless. I think it adds to the overall effect of my story, don't you?

Once again, I have no idea. As his goal is not mentioned, it shows that he has no real goal, and thus he has no real way. Hmmm, that sounded better in my head.

Anyway, I'm off to do some maths.

....remind me never to say that again.

Until next time, my very, very few readers!