In the Abyss

There are demons down there. There are lies and monsters down there. They say that it leads down to Satin's basement. Well that's what they say. And everyone belives it. Maybe because they want to. Or maybe it's because that's what they were taught to believe. I was also taught that. And I also believed it, until recently when doubt started to creep in. When it started to leek into my soul.
Maybe it's because my grandfather, the town's fool, didn't believe so. Maybe it's because he never came back when he journeyed down the abyss before I ever got to meet him. Maybe I wish I knew him. Maybe I want evidence that he ever existed. Maybe I want the truth. But there is no truth down in the abyss. Just lies and demons.

I've tried in secret, to climb down. I dropped the longest piece of rope that I could find, down into the abyss. But it wasn't long enough, and I had to climb back up.

Now I'm trying again. I still don't know how thick the fog is; the only way to know is to climb down, like my grandfather.
This time I have tied 14 ropes togethor, each one 50 metres long. One of these ropes, I used the last time I tried to climb down th abyss. If it is deeper than 700 metres, then I'll have to give up, and I can never just abandon a question. If I think of a question, then I automatically have to know the answer. I would invent a rocket ship just so that I could find out if aliens are actually green. (add that to my bucket list) Now Im 50 metres down, and my hands fumble over the knot tying the two ropes together. I can use the knots as markers to how far down I am. In the bag over my shoulder, I have some water and I also threw twelve 5 litre bottles of water down there along with a couple of lunchboxes.
After a while, I reach the second knot. One hundred metres. 600 more to go. By now I'm tired. I started climbing at 5:00 am and now it's 7:00 pm according to my watch. I've been climbing all day. I have a sheet in my bag. I should have thought about how I would get it out. I could fall at any moment.
There's a ridge about 1 metre below me. I put a foot so that I can have one hand free. It's not big enough to stand on but if I'm still holding on to the rope, I should be fine. I somehow manage to free the sheet from my bag. I've modified it so that I can make a sort of a hanging chair by tying it to the rope. I do so, and It's terrifying. All I can do is hope that it will hold my weight. I look at my hands. They are grazed and bleeding from holding the rough rope for far too long. Every muscle is aching, and however scary it is, it feels amazing to rest.

The next day, I wake up at 7:l2 am. Twelve is the number of ropes that I still have to climb. By now the town will probably have sent out a search party to look for me, and my mother will be awfully worried. Maybe I feel a bit guilty, but this is what I need to do and she wouldn't understand that. If they find the rope that I tied to that rock at the top of the abyss, then I hope they are considerate and listen to the note I left:

Please do not untie, romove, cut, or anything else that will result in this rope falling to the bottom of the abyss. I hope that you understand and respect that I do not want to go splat. Have a nice day!

I am climbing the smallest percent faster than yesterday. I guess that I am stronger now, and that my hands are tougher.
By the end of day two, I have climbed a total of 225 metres. 475 more to go.

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At the end of day four, I haven't gone splat, and I haven't reached the bottom, but the fog does look thinner.

Eventually my fingers detect the final knot. How many days have I been at this? A week? A month? It felt like a century. But now I'm just at the last stretch. Just 50 mtres. Then 40. Then 30. And 20. And now it's just 10 metres. I reach the bottom of the rope.... but my feet dont reach solid ground. About 5 metres below me, I can see rock. No lava, no demons. If I let go of the rope, I might not be able to get back up. My brain doesn't intend to let go, but apparently my hands do. My fingertips slip from the twine and I crash into the ground. I was hoping that when I got here, I could drink 60 litres of water, but all the bottles are broken and all the water is gone. It must have evaporated. My lunch boxes are also in pieces and the sandwitches that I made have ants all over them. Why is it that whenever I do something incredibly risky, I never prepare properly? Anyway. The climb up will be much more effort than the climb down. I'll have to find anathor way up.
Ok
I think.
I'll have to use what I have around me. Lets start with that.
Around me is your typical ravine, exept it's much deeper and it's much bigger. I decide to go right. Right is right. Right?
But is it correct?
After what seems to be a light year and a half, my feet are blistered and my shoes are tattered, but I have come across where the land ends. But the ravine doesn't. Now the looming darkness stands before me, closing into a cave, that, even through the lack of light, I can see that it is steadily sloping upwards.
Ok. This is alright, I thought.
But is it correct?

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The cave keeps upward, and I hope that it will stay like that. I can only feel that with each step, the one foot is higheer than the other, rather than the other way round. I can't see anything, but the air around me is definitely becoming more earthy. I begin to smell plant life.

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The light is blinding, at first, when I come out into the open day.
Is the sun setting or rising?
How long was I gone?
I honestly can't tell. I see on my left, is a forest and I am on the edge of it. On my right, is the abyss.
So right was right.
But was it correct? I'm not home yet.
On the other side of the abyss, and far, far to the left, I can only just see it, is a couple of houses. I'm on the other side of the abyss, but I can see the town. I'm going home.

                                                                                                   ¤ ¤ ¤

48 hours later, and now I am opposite the town. It's 1o:0o am and people are just starting to come outside.
"HEY!" I call and my voice echos out over the abyss. They look in my direction but they're so small, I can't make out their expresions. I wave my arms wildly and jump. Someone points at me, and soon the whole town is bustling by the ravine, pointing at me and trying to make out who I am. The townsfolk get a horse drawn carraige and take it around the gaping, chasm. I colapse into the cart, and I'm met with food and water. The horses start up again.
I'm going home now.
I'm going home.