Page 1 of The Pit


The Pit

  Christopher Teese

  Copyright 2011 Christopher Teese

  Table Of Contents

  (1) - The Young Man In The Pit

  (2) - The Light Above

  (3) - Fear

  (4) - The Voice

  (5) - The First Vision

  (6) - The Young Man's Sadness

  (7) - Heart Of Darkness

  (8) - The Second Vision

  (9) - The Great Pain

  (10) - The People Above

  (11) - False Love

  (12) - Accident

  (13) - Weariness

  (14) - Reaching Out

  (15) - The Third Vision

  (16) - Hopelessness

  (17) - The Person Who Reached Down

  (18) - The Crowd

  (19) - The Boy Who Wanted To Be Friends

  (20) - The Young Man Who Was Once A Friend

  (21) - The Door That He Allowed To Shut

  (22) - The Truth

  (23) - Those Who Remained

  (24) - Those Who Had Been Trying To Save Him All Along

  Epilogue

  Closing Notes/About Author/Connect Online

  (1)

  Once upon a time, there was a young man trying to climb out of a deep pit. The pit stretched up from the very bottom of the earth. How far up it went, the young man did not know. Nor did he remember how long he'd been climbing or how far he had come up from the bottom. All he knew was that he had been down here a very long time. He had been down here long before he had even realized he was down here.

  As far up as he could see, there was only darkness. There was no sign of light. Every muscle in his body screamed for relief, but there would be no rest for them. He dared not let go, because to let go was certain death. Sometimes, though, he felt that death might be preferable.

  There was no sign of an escape ahead. He didn't know that he wouldn't be climbing forever. He often felt that he might be. The thought was terrifying. He wouldn't be able to hold on forever. At some point his body would give out. He couldn't believe he'd even held on this long. He didn't know how much longer he could go on.

  21 year old Christian Anderson walked at a steady, determined pace. The sounds of the big city enveloped him. If you saw him, you would immediately perceive a young man with a purpose: head held high, walking resolutely on a certain mission. Except he wasn't. He wasn't really going anywhere. He was walking, but he had no destination. His face held a look of quiet calm, but that wasn't the way he felt on the inside.

  Christian was a young man who had no purpose in life. He’d once thought he did. But none of his dreams had ever panned out in life. Not that he had ever really known what he wanted to do with his life, anyways.

  During most of his teenage years he’d thought he did, all the way up to graduating high school. When it had come time to "make it happen", though, he had found that he really wasn't all that passionate about it like he thought he was. So the only thing that might have given his life purpose was now gone. Indeed, it had never really been there to begin with, and now he wandered the avenues of life once again, no destination, no purpose.

  He wasn't happy with his life now, but he felt powerless to do anything about it. He had never really been happy with his life. Even if he found something to aspire to, he had no self-confidence. He didn't feel like he could do anything. Sometimes he felt less than human. Defective. Never capable of being as good at anything as anyone else.

  He didn't have any friends, and he didn't make friends easily. His family barely knew he existed or what he really felt like on the inside. Sometimes, he felt maybe it would have been better if he had never been born. Maybe he would have been better off to have never existed rather than having to live forever afflicted with this great emptiness on the inside.

  (2)

  He could see a sliver of light up ahead in the tunnel. A feeling of excitement welled up in his heart like he'd never before felt in the time he'd been down here. For the first time, he felt a hope of escape. He might not have to be down here forever after all! With renewed vigor, he began to climb faster.

  He couldn't say exactly where the idea of becoming an actor had come from. It certainly wasn't something he would have ever thought someone like him capable of doing. It was just one of those random thoughts that occurred in his head one day, that he began thinking about more and more, until thoughts turned into desires, desires turned into goals, and goals turned into plans.

  But who was he kidding? It was something you had to be born into. He had no training. No talent. No good looks. He was too insecure to even think of chasing goals so far beyond his abilities.

  But he fantasized about it more and more. What would it be like to be a celebrity? Money and fame and power and respect could be all his. An acting career might be something he could do that he would be proud of.

  He knew that he should have just let it die like the fantasy it was, but he got on the internet one night and began searching for information about the industry. Twenty minutes later, he found himself ordering an 'Acting Career Course' on CD-ROM.

  He spent his days browsing through various websites on the acting industry and going through his course steadily every day. As time went on, he began to convince himself that maybe acting WAS something that he was capable of doing.

  He found a local acting school and signed up for classes. If he was being honest with himself, he might not have tried to pursue something so idealistic and stupid. But he did not want to give heed to the thoughts in the back of his mind and admit what he was really feeling:

  'Maybe if I make it big, get all the way to the top, people will finally love me for who I am, and I won't feel so lonely anymore...'

  (3)

  He was getting scared again. He had been climbing for some time, yet the light didn't seem to be any closer than it had when he'd first seen it. He'd expected the opening to start getting steadily larger as he kept climbing, but it still seemed so far off. It struck him: what if it was only an illusion? What if he kept climbing forever and it never got bigger?

  No, it must get bigger! He had to keep pressing on! His imagination was just running away with him. The exit was still a long ways off. As long as he pressed on diligently, it would get closer. He prayed it would.

  The acting classes didn't go bad. But Christian was still highly critical of himself. Everyone told him he was good and praised his performances, but despite this, he still never felt he was quite good enough.

  Memorizing lines proved to be an issue. The bigger problem, of course, was that he was very shy and insecure. He wasn't used to being around other people. Being social and outgoing didn't feel natural to him. Standing in front of crowds brought too much of a paralyzing fear for him to be able to perform to his fullest.

  The business aspect of it also scared him. He would be basically running his own business. He didn't have any sort of natural business sense.

  He would be better off with an agent. Or a manger. Or maybe both. But finding representation was near impossible for someone who hadn't already established themselves in some way.

  Plus, that would mean more people judging his performances. Deciding whether or not he was 'good enough' to deserve representation.

  Of course, he was going to have to be judged on his performances anyways. You didn't get roles in films or plays by simply wanting them and showing up.

  In order to make his dream happen, he was going to have to come out of his shell and start doing all sorts of new things outside his comfort zone.

  He didn't know what the heck was wrong with him. He had no self-esteem. He didn't look good enough. This whole thing was so much bigger than him. People would be judging everything about him as he tried to put himself out there. What if he was mediocre, or just not good?
What if his dream was nothing more than a flight of fantasy? What if he didn't make any headway at all, and turned out disappointed?

  He thought he should just quit. He was kidding himself if he thought he could make it very far, after all...

  (4)

  A horrible stench of death assaulted the young man's senses. It caused him to momentarily stop and glance all around him, but he couldn't locate a source. Nothing but a solid circle of craggy wall surrounded him. There was no open space for anything dead to be.

  The smell made him want to vomit. There was also a distinct touch of sulfur. It caused him to nearly let go and go tumbling down. But he held on with dear life as he willed himself to control his stomach. The smell did not dissipate as he continued to climb, but he found himself being able to bear it a little better as he got used to it. Not much, but a little better.

  He nearly let go again in surprise when a voice whispered into his ear:

  "Enlighten a curious soul. From where do you come, and where are you going?"

  The young man