06: A Big Drip

Nowhere to go. Nowhere to hide. I was out in the open.

Stupid!

I scrambled away on hands and knees to find a hiding spot. A nearby broken wall seemed better than nothing, even if it was useless for any real cover. I made myself small enough to try, anyway.

Really? It obviously saw me. Just how is this supposed to be a 'good' hiding spot, exactly?

Adrenaline and panic raced through me, perfect fuel for running, but my legs refused to carry me away. I stayed put, trembling in fear like a pathetic coward. My pulse hammered in my ears and blocked out everything else.

I knew it! This is it! Nobody’s coming. No one's gonna save… me. Is this part of that thing’s twisted game? I… I wrecked a Nymph's home, right? Or…piss of some kind of… Dryad? Or… or m-maybe it's… worse? What's worse?!

My mind screamed an endless list of possible creatures, some less likely than others, from the different fantasy games and stories I'd usually consume in my free time. Whatever the thing was, I stumbled into its trap. There was no doubt in my mind.

Minutes passed. Then several more. The thing had to be watching me, laughing at my pitiful attempt to hide. It probably wanted me to let my guard down, to relax and look back. Then… BAM! It would strike.

The waiting game continued. My legs, still unable to take me somewhere safer, turned numb from my poorly thought out position. I lost track of the time. It felt like forever since it saw me, but nothing happened.

Why? Why isn't it… coming after me? Am I not… worth its time? Bad idea. Don't do it. How dumb are you? Don't look…

I peeked out from behind the wall, ignoring the voice that was now screaming in my head to stay put. It hadn't attacked me yet. I was safe, but I had to know why it wasn't coming for me.

The space was still empty. There was no sign of anything except the jars I cleaned, and some vines I ripped down. I squinted, searching the veil of plants for it.

There!

It remained partially hidden by the plants and shadows; unmoving and still looking to the spot where I fell. The breath I was holding in slipped out—a shaky sigh of relief. I pulled myself up with the wall I hid behind and walked back to the vines when the feeling returned to my legs. I pulled away more of the plants.

A statue.

"Come on, how pathetic can you get, Skyler?"

Even alone, heat rushed to my face, and embarrassment washed over me. Though, the voice that tossed me into the ruins was probably getting a good laugh from the whole thing, cracking up at my cowardly reaction if it was paying any attention to its little pawn. The imagined laughter was too real, and my face got warmer more at the thought.

Maybe whoever crafted the statue had a certain intention, giving the face a kind, warm expression in order to encourage or soothe the viewer. I saw it, sort of, maybe, but not really. If anything, the face had a mocking glance of condescension. It didn't put me at ease. I felt worse, smaller, with every passing second as I examined it; particularly considering how much of a spectacular failure I'd been thus far in the ruins it called home.

I looked down, hanging my head—ashamed.

My lips chapped and started to split. I ran my tongue over them with little improvement. Both my spit and sweat were lacking. I had to keep clearing the vines if I wanted any relief.

"Maybe I could just… lick the wall?"

The statue's answer was a disgusted stare.

"Yeah, no. Ew…"

There was still plenty of work ahead of me if I wanted to figure out where the water was actually coming from. Multitasking was the answer. I wallowed in self-pity and cleared vines away at the same time.

"It's just… simple gardening, right? Grab. Pull. Repeat. I can't mess that up."

I didn't bother paying any attention to the statue I'd unveiled from the collective of vines at the center. I attacked the rest like a puzzle. The outside edges first, and moving inward to expose a recessed alcove in the wall. Bit by bit, more plants came down to reveal the stone behind it, discarded in the enclosed section of the bench. Some sections of wall were dry, while others had carved grooves redirecting the water elsewhere. The water’s flow remained an unimpressive trickle, hugging the wall, until a large collection of roots above me finally let go and crashed down.

"Perfect. Of course, I screwed it up. Dammit, Skyler…"

The wall I was pruning back was actually a fountain carved into the stone wall behind it, and I'd been standing in the basin, filling it with the same debris I removed. The water, now deep enough to cover my toes, had nowhere to drain thanks to how I inadvertently piled everything up to clog the drains. Eventually, it would spill over the bench.

I forced myself to clean out the slimy, soggy, and increasingly disgusting mess before it turned into a swampy muck. The nests in my now useless rain catchers were nothing compared to the filth I waded in. Something had burrowed into the overgrowth of the basin at some point.

"And Jess calls me dis—?" A sour taste filled my mouth, burning the back of my throat. I spat outside the basin. "…d-disgusting?"

The smells were so horrid I didn't want to imagine what they were. I gagged and dry heaved uncontrollably. Not finding any food yet had been a blessing.

My focus returned to the wall after the basin was clear. No matter how much progress I made, the water remained a meager dribble. Another joke on me, a real riot. The sun kissed the top of the mountains when I finally understood why. Several openings near the top, spouts to feed the carved grooves and canals, had roots snaking their way inside to block them. They diverted most of the water along the vines themselves, dripping across the wall and finally out of the fountain until I came along.

My silent observer, the patronizing statue, stood on a raised platform in the basin. Presumably, it would keep the figure above the waterline. I used it as a step to reach higher. It wasn't enough, so I perched my toes in a carved canal for the water as a foothold. Each stretch up, I got closer to grabbing the big roots. I missed it. I almost had it the next time. Then, with a final push upward and off the statue's base, I grabbed it.

"Ha! Got it!"

I slipped.

"Oh, sh—!"

My grip on the root tightened. I assumed the worst and figured my life depended on it. I dropped, but the roots held up and prevented a grim outcome.

I dangled there for the world to ridicule.

Cold water poured over me, giving me an unavoidable shower after skipping out on my previous opportunity to play the game that led me to this moment. Water soaked my hair and clothes. My heavier weight brought lower as the roots loosened, coming free, until they snapped.

Splash!

My eyes were closed from the increasing onslaught gushing over me, so I never knew I was barely a foot from the bottom of the basin. For once, I landed on my feet. A success. The roots still held by my white knuckle grip followed me seconds later. Without its anchor, a large plant dropped on my head, covering me like a ghillie suit.

"That's it. I'm done. I quit. Things can always get worse. Idiot…"

The small, yet shocking, final drop into the water left my legs shaking like jelly and uneasy. I figured there was too much left to be done. Night was coming, and I was exhausted. I needed, no, I deserved, a break after surviving that fall. I didn't care if it wasn't as deadly as I thought at the time.

Drenched, and now covered in dirt from the uprooted plant, I climbed out of the basin. The rest of the roots and vines in my hand dragged behind me. Several steps away from the fountain, I sat on the ground, then laid on my back to dry off.

I looked back at the unfinished project. To my surprise, the last collection of roots plugging the holes were all interconnected and part of the same plant that toppled down on me. The fountain's spouts were clear and flowing properly. I watched the etched pathways directing water this way and that, filling miniature basins, forming waterfalls, all until it reached the bottom. The basin filled quicker than expected, and without overflowing.