Someone pushed you into the well. They might have done it because of peer pressure. Or maybe they are just cruel. It doesn't really matter, because ultimately you are stuck at the bottom of the well. Alone. In the dark. And injured-even if it seems superficial.
What do you do?
Most people would try and get their bearing first. That could be difficult, because as suddenly dark as it is, it may not be possible to piece together the situation. Is this even a well? Were you pushed, or did you just trip when they walked by?
Does anyone know where you are?
It looks late, and the sun is going down. Maybe you cry out for help thinking that someone could hear. Maybe you sit for a while silently because there probably isn't anyone there. What if someone found you, but instead of helping, they just laughed and left anyway?
What is taking so long? Doesn't anyone care?
...is anyone coming?
A long time passes, seemingly an eternity. Time stands still while stretching on infinitely when you are in the well. No one can see your predicament, and most wouldn't know what to do to help anyway. Still, it would be nice to at least have someone to talk to...
Your head aches (must have hit it on the way down). Stranded, there is nothing you can do to stop the pain, or even take your mind away from it. (What you wouldn't try to make it stop...)
An eternity passes during a sleepless night, and you find yourself, in a sense, settled in to the well. It may not be the most enjoyable situation ever, but it is just how fate decided you would wind up.
I think I hear someone coming!
Sure enough, a stranger comes to get water from the well, and you call out to them! They don't know you or your family, but they do offer to let the rope down with the bucket to let you climb up. Hooray!
Halfway up, the rope snaps. You fall back down, this time hurting your arm. You will no longer be able to save yourself on your own. To make things worse, the stranger gets mad that they can't get water because of you, and storms off.
Hello darkness my old friend...
Time passes again, and it becomes obvious that the stranger from earlier did not go off to get help for you. Night is closing in again, and you are no closer to being rescued. Oh well...
Your stomach growls.
After 2 days inside the well, you find that there is a small spot where mushrooms grow. These happen to be an edible variety, so you eat some. That plus the water from the well itself sustain you with no frills, but at least you are getting by. Come dawn, you find yourself hoping the sun doesn't shine down the well and kill the mushrooms.
Footsteps. Again.
A person talking on a phone shows up with a bucket and rope to get water. Without looking, they toss the bucket down, straight on your head. On top of all the other pain you've experienced in the past few days (my god, has it really been that long?) this is the last straw. You grab the bucket and hold on for dear life. The person who tossed it tugs to try and pull it up to no avail. As soon as you see them lean over to see what the issue is, you yell with all your might, "I GOT PUSHED DOWN HERE, NOW DAMMIT GET ME OUT!!!"
Baffled, the person at the top explains that they are not able to pull you up, but will go bring help. By this point you don't even care if they do or not. It is enough to simply know someone knows about your predicament, and cares enough to offer sympathy.
At the top of the well, 2 faces look down over the edge. Help has at last arrived. Exhausted, broken, and bruised, you finally are pulled up by the two rescuers, and return home.
This in itself is strange now. Having acclimated to the well, all the vivid colors and moving things you had taken for granted are almost overwhelming at first. It is easy to get carried away, but it just feels to GOOD to be back home! After a crisis, the simplest things can become the most important in your life.
You invite the rescuers in and offer them drinks out of gratitude. Talking with them, you learn that one was a trained rescuer, and the other had also been pushed down a well in the past. You point out that you never heard of anyone else who that had happened to, and the response is ,"even though a lot of people have this happen to them, most don't speak up because of embarrassment." You ask why this person is willing to say it, and are told ,"if it is possible to help someone because of your experience, why would you not? Might as well make the best of a bad situation and help ease someone else's suffering."
Now the question:
What will you do now? Some never make it out of their well, but you did. You can find the person who pushed you and beat them up, turn them in to the authorities (probably a good idea if they might push other people), or find closure some other way. No one would blame you, but will that help anyone? Harboring a grudge hurts you as much as the one the grudge is against, and justice does not heal no matter what form it may take.
Consider using your experience to help others who go through similar hardships. Lend your hand to their aid, your voice to their support, your ear to their words, and your shoulder to their tears. And if anger is a double-edged sword, forgiveness is like a good medicine for the wounds of both people. It may be painful at first, but in time will help you heal.
This story is hyperbolic, yet true, and is merely a tool of understanding tragic events. I wish you all the best in life.
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