Bottle In The Basement

V

The smell of his own vomit reached up to him from below and attacked his nose. The scent was enough to make a man cry and so Jimmy did. He sat there, no longer swimming in his past but now pitying his present. Still sobbing, he began banging his fists against the seemingly impenetrable door. Nothing happened. He was still trapped.

His mind dull and unthinking, he got himself to a crouching position once more and began tottering down the stairs. It wasn't until he reached the bottom that he realized that the light could not travel this far, and that he was surrounded by thick and full darkness.

He had read about this kind of darkness in novels. About how it was said to be able to drive people insane. And now he knew why. The fear of not knowing was worse than anything that sat in the cellar before him and he shivered at the thought.

The dark seemed to dull all of his senses, he felt as though his feet were not moving at all and with nothing visual to confirm the thought, he had no knowledge of if he was truly walking or not.

The texture of the wall beneath his right hand had became so patterned that he was not entirely sure if it was still moving forward or still sitting in the same damp spot.

It was not until he tripped over a pile of something unrecognizable that he was forced to conclude that he had in fact been moving the entire time. The thought terrified him. Was the cellar really that big?

He was sitting now, running his hand back and forth across the cold cement flooring until he found the pile he tripped over once more. The first thing he came across was a large bundle of rope. He slung this over his shoulder and decided that he would bring it back to the stairs until he could find a use for it.

Just the feel of the rope was soothing on his now worn hands and he found trouble resuming his search. He eventually found the will to continue searching and once more slid his hands over the floor until his fingers ran into a short but wide box.

He caressed the box all over with eager fingers and found that it was sealed on every side. He decided that he would come back for the box after he had investigated the rest of the piled mess.

The next object he came across felt something like an empty pill bottle, Jimmy stored it in his front left pocket until he could better examine it under the light coming out from under the door.

Still searching, Jim began retracing backwards, believing he had gone too far from the pile. Once more he found the box and came to the conclusion that there must not be much left.

His fingers slipped onto the cold ground for one last search until they ran into something slick and cold. Moving his hands up the mystery object, Jimmy found himself grasping the neck of a cold bottle of wine.

Jimmy's hand recoiled as if he had been struck by a venomous snake. But it was already too late, the awful memories were already beginning to flood back in.