u/Jlw2001

Don’t try to help.

It was a brisk autumn night and I was walking home from work along the old canal, long out of use and now part of a nature reserve. It’d been a long day and I’d turned my earbuds right up to clear my head. I was walking with my hands firmly in my pockets when the powering down noise went. I was certain I’d charged them that morning. As I put them in their case a sob on the other bank made me jump out of my skin.

I glanced over, a small boy in pretty formal school uniform. “I’m sorry” he said. “I didn’t mean to make you jump.” He only had a jacket and it was getting colder and darker by the minute, especially with the trees along the path and the lack of any lighting. The bank on that side was much, much steeper, and he was perched on a little outcrop just above the water. He must have slid down the bank, and was lucky to have landed where he did, and not gone into the canal.
“Is there anyone with you?” I called over.
“No, I was just going home.”
“Is there anyone I can call?” He just stared at this question. I noticed I could see my breath, he must be freezing. “Can you climb up the bank?” He turned around and tried to scramble up it, but it gave way under his weight. I winced as he barely kept his balance on the small outcrop.

Fuck it, I thought, I’ll have to wade over. I knew the canal well and with years of silt it wasn’t that deep. I took my shoes and jacket off, pulled my jeans as high as they’d go and lowered myself into the water, my breath catching at the chill. I waded over, my feet sinking into the silty bottom. Arms stretched for balance, I grabbed a reed to help myself across. I reached the other side and told him to hop on my shoulder. He looked down at me, looking like he was about to burst into tears. “I’m not stuck by here, I’m stuck down there.”

I started to ask what he meant when something moved in the silt and grabbed my ankle. It was horribly soft but I could feel the bones through it, and it was devoid of any warmth. I shouted and kicked at it. It was small, far too small. Glancing up at the bank he was crying now. “Please, I need to get out, it’s been so long, it’s so cold. I can’t.” I felt the grip return, tighter this time. It yanked hard and I went under. I twisted under the murky water as another hand clawed at my free leg. Getting one free, I kicked as hard as I could against the thing. My foot connected this time with some tattered material, covering what I think was a rib cage. He screamed as I surfaced, and asked again that I help him, but this thing under the water wasn’t him. As I reached my bank I saw the reeds shake and something emerging from the breaking surface. I dragged myself out onto the path and clambered to my feet. Without stopping to look back or grab my things I ran as fast as I could down the path, not stopping until I came out on the Main Street, the first lampposts of the night humming to life. I never went back for my shoes.

It was a brisk autumn night and I was walking home from work along the old canal, long out of use and now part of a nature reserve. It’d been a long day and I’d turned my earbuds right up to clear my head. I was walking with my hands firmly in my pockets when the powering down noise went. I was certain I’d charged them that morning. As I put them in their case a sob on the other bank made me jump out of my skin.

I glanced over, a small boy in pretty formal school uniform. “I’m sorry” he said. “I didn’t mean to make you jump.” He only had a jacket and it was getting colder and darker by the minute, especially with the trees along the path and the lack of any lighting. The bank on that side was much, much steeper, and he was perched on a little outcrop just above the water. He must have slid down the bank, and was lucky to have landed where he did, and not gone into the canal.
“Is there anyone with you?” I called over.
“No, I was just going home.”
“Is there anyone I can call?” He just stared at this question. I noticed I could see my breath, he must be freezing. “Can you climb up the bank?” He turned around and tried to scramble up it, but it gave way under his weight. I winced as he barely kept his balance on the small outcrop.

Fuck it, I thought, I’ll have to wade over. I knew the canal well and with years of silt it wasn’t that deep. I took my shoes and jacket off, pulled my jeans as high as they’d go and lowered myself into the water, my breath catching at the chill. I waded over, my feet sinking into the silty bottom. Arms stretched for balance, I grabbed a reed to help myself across. I reached the other side and told him to hop on my shoulder. He looked down at me, looking like he was about to burst into tears. “I’m not stuck by here, I’m stuck down there.”

I started to ask what he meant when something moved in the silt and grabbed my ankle. It was horribly soft but I could feel the bones through it, and it was devoid of any warmth. I shouted and kicked at it. It was small, far too small. Glancing up at the bank he was crying now. “Please, I need to get out, it’s been so long, it’s so cold”. I felt the grip return, tighter this time. It yanked hard and I went under. I twisted under the murky water as another hand clawed at my free leg. Getting one free, I kicked as hard as I could against the thing. My foot connected this time with some tattered material, covering what I think was a rib cage. He screamed as I surfaced, and asked again that I help him, but this thing under the water wasn’t him. As I reached my bank I saw the reeds shake and something emerging from the breaking surface. I dragged myself out onto the path and clambered to my feet. Without stopping to look back or grab my things I ran as fast as I could down the path, not stopping until I came out on the Main Street, the first lampposts of the night humming to life. I never went back for my shoes.

He must have been so lonely, and I didn’t listen. It was a few years ago now. I’d finished work and was walking back home, as the only bus was in the mornings. I could follow the road, but I preferred to cut through the old nature reserve when it wasn’t too dark. It had been industrial once, a canal and railways both long abandoned, tracks removed. My family had warned of the uneven ground and roots that could make it dangerous, but I wanted to get home. It was quite a brisk evening, and I was doing my jacket up as I crossed the bridge over the old railway line, which itself led to another part of the town.

Halfway over I heard it. “Help”, short and sharp, then again “Help!”. Coming from the line below. The bridge was quite a bit higher than the line, steep banks leading down on either side. I peered over. The night drawing in, I could just about see him laying at the bottom of the bank. Normal looking kid, maybe a private school from his uniform. His bag too was a bit formal, and he’d pulled it and his coat over his legs. He looked up at me “Help!”. “What’s happened?” I shouted down. “Oh, thank you mister. It’s not much really, I’ve just hurt my leg a bit. I haven’t seen you before, do you come here often?”
“Um, most days yeah, but what’s happened to your leg? Can you walk? Do you need a hand?”
“Oh I’ll be alright I think. What brings you this way? Do you live locally? I live just down here by the green”
“Not too far then! Are you ok to stand up, do you need a hand? You were calling for help”
I didn’t like that he’d hidden his legs, and wouldn’t say what the matter was. “I’m coming down” I heard him gasp, clearly he wasn’t fine. I turned to the winding route through the woods that’d take me down to the railway line. It wasn’t long but did mean going back on myself slightly, and leaving him out of sight briefly. “No!” he shouted, sounding genuinely upset now. “There’s no need, I’m just going to recuperate and then I’ll be on my way home, just stay there please.” Blood loss? I thought to myself, the poor kid was clearly confused. 
“One minute and I’ll be down with you!” I called, trying to calm him. 
“Please listen! I don’t want you to, I’d just like to talk, nobody ever listens!”.

I didn’t say anything this time, just turned and hurried down the path. “No!!”, almost a scream now, then no more words just shrieks and sobs. With each one I sped up down the path, until my foot caught in a branch, sending me head over heels. I got back up, a dull throb in my leg as I heard a piercing scream, the pitch more like a whistle. I rounded the corner and ran under the bridge to where he’d been laying. There was no sign of him, just leaves and the odd bit of industrial debris. I looked up and down the line, the ends fading off into the night. He said he lived by the green, which was at the far end of the line, and for him to get far enough for me to not be able to see him, or to climb the bank, his leg can’t be that bad. I told myself this but I knew deep down. I pondered calling the police but what could I say? This kid was stuck but isn’t anymore? 

When I got home I looked through all the local groups for the area, seeing if anyone had posted that their kid was missing. Nothing. The green is at the end of the line, he must have found his way back. The next evening I finished work and got to the entrance to the reserve. I must have stood there for a few minutes before turning, and walking down the road back home. 

He must have been so lonely, and I didn’t listen. It was a few years ago now. I’d finished work and was walking back home, as the only bus was in the mornings. I could follow the road, but I preferred to cut through the old nature reserve when it wasn’t too dark. It had been industrial once, a canal and railways both long abandoned, tracks removed. My family had warned of the uneven ground and roots that could make it dangerous, but I wanted to get home. It was quite a brisk evening, and I was doing my jacket up as I crossed the bridge over the old railway line, which itself led to another part of the town.

Halfway over I heard it. “Help”, short and sharp, then again “Help!”. Coming from the line below. The bridge was quite a bit higher than the line, steep banks leading down on either side. I peered over. The night drawing in, I could just about see him laying at the bottom of the bank. Normal looking kid, maybe a private school from his uniform. His bag too was a bit formal, and he’d pulled it and his coat over his legs. He looked up at me “Help!”. “What’s happened?” I shouted down. “Oh, thank you mister. It’s not much really, I’ve just hurt my leg a bit. I haven’t seen you before, do you come here often?”
“Um, most days yeah, but what’s happened to your leg? Can you walk? Do you need a hand?”
“Oh I’ll be alright I think. What brings you this way? Do you live locally? I live just down here by the green”
“Not too far then! Are you ok to stand up, do you need a hand? You were calling for help”
I didn’t like that he’d hidden his legs, and wouldn’t say what the matter was. “I’m coming down” I heard him gasp, clearly he wasn’t fine. I turned to the winding route through the woods that’d take me down to the railway line. It wasn’t long but did mean going back on myself slightly, and leaving him out of sight briefly. “No!” he shouted, sounding genuinely upset now. “There’s no need, I’m just going to recuperate and then I’ll be on my way home, just stay there please.” Blood loss? I thought to myself, the poor kid was clearly confused. 
“One minute and I’ll be down with you!” I called, trying to calm him. 
“Please listen! I don’t want you to, I’d just like to talk, nobody ever listens!”.

I didn’t say anything this time, just turned and hurried down the path. “No!!”, almost a scream now, then no more words just shrieks and sobs. With each one I sped up down the path, until my foot caught in a branch, sending me head over heels. I got back up, a dull throb in my leg as I heard a piercing scream, the pitch more like a whistle. I rounded the corner and ran under the bridge to where he’d been laying. There was no sign of him, just leaves and the odd bit of industrial debris. I looked up and down the line, the ends fading off into the night. He said he lived by the green, which was at the far end of the line, and for him to get far enough for me to not be able to see him, or to climb the bank, his leg can’t be that bad. I told myself this but I knew deep down. I pondered calling the police but what could I say? This kid was stuck but isn’t anymore? 

When I got home I looked through all the local groups for the area, seeing if anyone had posted that their kid was missing. Nothing. The green is at the end of the line, he must have found his way back. The next evening I finished work and got to the entrance to the reserve. I must have stood there for a few minutes before turning, and walking down the road back home. 

The heat of the day was definitely a factor in my decision to go on a cave tour. I was a bit hungover, but not as much as my comatose friends back at the hotel. I reckoned somewhere a bit cooler and darker might help, and after all, we’d come out to Wales to have a look around.

It was a very professional operation running the cave, a nice new visitor center to wait in for the next trip. Seemed to be working for them though, I think a few in our group were all the way from Japan. Eventually our guide turned up to take everyone waiting on the tour. James, he said his name was. My first impression was of a bored uni student working through the holidays, but to be fair to him he’d rehearsed the spiel to a tee. He went through some safety jargon about sticking to paths because of how slippery and dark it all is, and off we went into the cave, the paths and lighting looking just as modern as the center.

Going from the stifling heat of the day into a cool cave was exactly the relief I thought it’d be, though I did feel a bit jealous as he explained that the stone age inhabitants would use the various rock pools to swim. Once we’d been shown around the main chamber, and asked “Any questions?” in a tone that said “Please don’t”, we were given ten minutes to wander around the smaller offshoots, and peruse the various info boards.

I’d gone into the furthest chamber, wanting one to myself. It had a large central area that after a safety barrier slipped off about six feet into a small lower level, a stream running through it. I was most of the way through reading about how this chamber had been used for burials until… the lights went off. It was so devoid of light it felt as though the darkness was something physical that I might walk into. I couldn’t see anything at all, just the odd drop of water. I started retracing my steps when I heard someone else running in a panic, I’d only managed to croak a warning when she ran right into me and slipped. I just managed to keep my balance, off the path now, and grabbed her, but she couldn’t seem to get up. I realised she was sliding down the bank and managed to get her hand, but between my sweaty hands and the slimy cave floor it was a losing battle. She was crying and clearly in a hell of a panic. “You’re pulling me!!” I told her but she couldn’t say anything. I felt myself slipping and I’m ashamed to say I had to pry her hand off mine. I winced at the sound of her tumbling down the bank, and assured her I’d be back with help. Her sobs behind me, I noticed a green emergency light in the distance. Combined with my phone’s flash that did little more than reveal my feet, I made my way back.

After a brief flicker the lights came back on, and as I rounded the corner the rest of the group all stared at me, confused by my panting and dishevelled appearance. “Help, someone slipped, over in the burial bit, needs help.” James seemed to count our group, then grinned slightly “I think you might be a bit late for that”. He motioned for us to follow into the chamber. “Yes, as our comedian friend here has just spoiled for you all, this is the burial chamber. One of the most recently used parts of the cave. Back in the stone age, this would have been the local cemetery, until an accident that seems to have coincided with the end of human activity here. If you look down the bank you’ll see what we think might have done it.”

I was trying to grab the floor with my toes as I walked over to the bank’s edge and peered down over the barrier. At the bottom beside the stream was a skeleton, markers placed around it. “A young woman” James explained “archaeologists have found she broke her leg in the fall, and couldn’t get back up, dating back 11,000 years.” I was completely zoned out the rest of the tour, and “Not bad” was all my friends got out of me about the tour when I returned to the hotel, and it’s about the extent of what I’ve told anyone so far.

The heat of the day was definitely a factor in my decision to go on a cave tour. I was a bit hungover, but not as much as my comatose friends back at the hotel. I reckoned somewhere a bit cooler and darker might help, and after all, we’d come out to Wales to have a look around.

It was a very professional operation running the cave, a nice new visitor center to wait in for the next trip. Seemed to be working for them though, I think a few in our group were all the way from Japan. Eventually our guide turned up to take everyone waiting on the tour. James, he said his name was. My first impression was of a bored uni student working through the holidays, but to be fair to him he’d rehearsed the spiel to a tee. He went through some safety jargon about sticking to paths because of how slippery and dark it all is, and off we went into the cave, the paths and lighting looking just as modern as the center.

Going from the stifling heat of the day into a cool cave was exactly the relief I thought it’d be, though I did feel a bit jealous as he explained that the stone age inhabitants would use the various rock pools to swim. Once we’d been shown around the main chamber, and asked “Any questions?” in a tone that said “Please don’t”, we were given ten minutes to wander around the smaller offshoots, and peruse the various info boards.

I’d gone into the furthest chamber, wanting one to myself. It had a large central area that after a safety barrier slipped off about six feet into a small lower level, a stream running through it. I was most of the way through reading about how this chamber had been used for burials until… the lights went off. It was so devoid of light it felt as though the darkness was something physical that I might walk into. I couldn’t see anything at all, just the odd drop of water. I started retracing my steps when I heard someone else running in a panic, I’d only managed to croak a warning when she ran right into me and slipped. I just managed to keep my balance, off the path now, and grabbed her, but she couldn’t seem to get up. I realised she was sliding down the bank and managed to get her hand, but between my sweaty hands and the slimy cave floor it was a losing battle. She was crying and clearly in a hell of a panic. “You’re pulling me!!” I told her but she couldn’t say anything. I felt myself slipping and I’m ashamed to say I had to pry her hand off mine. I winced at the sound of her tumbling down the bank, and assured her I’d be back with help. Her sobs behind me, I noticed a green emergency light in the distance. Combined with my phone’s flash that did little more than reveal my feet, I made my way back.

After a brief flicker the lights came back on, and as I rounded the corner the rest of the group all stared at me, confused by my panting and dishevelled appearance. “Help, someone slipped, over in the burial bit, needs help.” James seemed to count our group, then grinned slightly “I think you might be a bit late for that”. He motioned for us to follow into the chamber. “Yes, as our comedian friend here has just spoiled for you all, this is the burial chamber. One of the most recently used parts of the cave. Back in the stone age, this would have been the local cemetery, until an accident that seems to have coincided with the end of human activity here. If you look down the bank you’ll see what we think might have done it.”

I was trying to grab the floor with my toes as I walked over to the bank’s edge and peered down over the barrier. At the bottom beside the stream was a skeleton, markers placed around it. “A young woman” James explained “archaeologists have found she broke her leg in the fall, and couldn’t get back up, dating back 11,000 years.” I was completely zoned out the rest of the tour, and “Not bad” was all my friends got out of me about the tour when I returned to the hotel, and it’s about the extent of what I’ve told anyone so far.

The heat of the day was definitely a factor in my decision to go on a cave tour. I was a bit hungover, but not as much as my comatose friends back at the hotel. I reckoned somewhere a bit cooler and darker might help, and after all, we’d come out to Wales to have a look around.

It was a very professional operation running the cave, a nice new visitor center to wait in for the next trip. Seemed to be working for them though, I think a few in our group were all the way from Japan. Eventually our guide turned up to take everyone waiting on the tour. James, he said his name was. My first impression was of a bored uni student working through the holidays, but to be fair to him he’d rehearsed the spiel to a tee. He went through some safety jargon about sticking to paths because of how slippery and dark it all is, and off we went into the cave, the paths and lighting looking just as modern as the center.

Going from the stifling heat of the day into a cool cave was exactly the relief I thought it’d be, though I did feel a bit jealous as he explained that the stone age inhabitants would use the various rock pools to swim. Once we’d been shown around the main chamber, and asked “Any questions?” in a tone that said “Please don’t”, we were given ten minutes to wander around the smaller offshoots, and peruse the various info boards.

I’d gone into the furthest chamber, wanting one to myself. It had a large central area that after a safety barrier slipped off about six feet into a small lower level, a stream running through it. I was most of the way through reading about how this chamber had been used for burials until… the lights went off. It was so devoid of light it felt as though the darkness was something physical that I might walk into. I couldn’t see anything at all, just the odd drop of water. I started retracing my steps when I heard someone else running in a panic, I’d only managed to croak a warning when she ran right into me and slipped. I just managed to keep my balance, off the path now, and grabbed her, but she couldn’t seem to get up. I realised she was sliding down the bank and managed to get her hand, but between my sweaty hands and the slimy cave floor it was a losing battle. She was crying and clearly in a hell of a panic. “You’re pulling me!!” I told her but she couldn’t say anything. I felt myself slipping and I’m ashamed to say I had to pry her hand off mine. I winced at the sound of her tumbling down the bank, and assured her I’d be back with help. Her sobs behind me, I noticed a green emergency light in the distance. Combined with my phone’s flash that did little more than reveal my feet, I made my way back.

After a brief flicker the lights came back on, and as I rounded the corner the rest of the group all stared at me, confused by my panting and dishevelled appearance. “Help, someone slipped, over in the burial bit, needs help.” James seemed to count our group, then grinned slightly “I think you might be a bit late for that”. He motioned for us to follow into the chamber. “Yes, as our comedian friend here has just spoiled for you all, this is the burial chamber. One of the most recently used parts of the cave. Back in the stone age, this would have been the local cemetery, until an accident that seems to have coincided with the end of human activity here. If you look down the bank you’ll see what we think might have done it.”

I was trying to grab the floor with my toes as I walked over to the bank’s edge and peered down over the barrier. At the bottom beside the stream was a skeleton, markers placed around it. “A young woman” James explained “archaeologists have found she broke her leg in the fall, and couldn’t get back up, dating back 11,000 years.” I was completely zoned out the rest of the tour, and “Not bad” was all my friends got out of me about the tour when I returned to the hotel, and it’s about the extent of what I’ve told anyone so far.