thisisallonewordpress

Deeper into the night, swimming slowly down the underwater tunnels where the light reaches pitch black, torches held but not yet in use, batteries are low and we will need to use them sparingly, remember? Diving equipment is lightweight, less air in the packs but small enough to squeeze through some of those tight crevices we heard about. I turn round to see how far you are behind me, having felt the guide rope tug a bit back there. I turn around and you are gone. Flash-light quickly turned on. Breath. Stay calm. Somewhere near. There is no place to go except forward and back. The rope is clean cut, a knife cut. Had you had enough and gone back? Why didn’t you say anything? You could have told me you wanted to go back, I would have agreed. Would I have agreed? OK, we would have argued for a minute or so and then you would have won. A black shape falls towards me, your knife, threads of rope caught between the serrated edges. How long have I been alone? Fuck you. I’m going down alone, I’ll get there on my own, no-one has ever done that, and I’ll be the first. And I get to make you feel jealous when I get back. OK, it should be another hundred feet this way and then it curves to the right. An other black object falls down towards me through the cold water as I shine the torch back, just in case, and I lose it from the beam after a few seconds when the battery dies. How long was I looking back for? I thought it was a minute or so but these batteries are new, they should last four, five hours maybe. Shit, it’s dark. OK, fuck this, I’m going back. I start to swim upwards when I hit a roof. What roof? There is no roof. Fuck, why doesn’t the torch work? Shit, is the tunnel getting smaller or did I miss this detour on the map? This shouldn’t be here. OK, downwards it is, into the black.