Chapter 6
Cliffhanger
"Dear Luna,
You know what I really miss the most? That guitar. I never found out how you managed to pull all-nighters, and yet still have enough energy to wake up long before the sun, but your melodies were always the first thing that I heard. Okay, usually it was Lola snoring, but, uh, she doesn't need to know that. Either way, I'm sure Luan didn't appreciate it, but I always did.
I never could identify the songs you played though. It was always so foreign to me. Nothing popular, and definitely not your hits. I guess they were just small jams with no rhyme, right? Still... I can't shake the feeling that, as the days came and we started heading to this forsaken place, you were practicing something just for the occasion.
Did... Did you perfect it in time Luna?"
The bridge above swung, somehow still clinging to live, but that wasn't any sort of consolation for the poor boy dangling for his life, holding onto a strain of rope that decided to plunge into the depths alongside his screaming head.
Lincoln thought it was over. His feet made a mistake, and the wood, despite its best efforts, couldn't support the poor explorer any longer. He looked down into the water below, but somehow his hands saved his life. He swung carelessly over the crushing waves, eyes growing wide to the destruction that was soon to greet him.
"Oh no... no, no, no..."
It was always a rule in life to never look down when in a precarious situation, but sometimes it just couldn't be helped. He saw himself down in the waters below, waves crushing him against the rocks, until not even a single strand of white hair remained. His body, still short for his age, wouldn't last a second, and though the lack of equipment allowed him to hang on, he still regretting not bringing even a simple knife on this journey.
But the truth of the matter remained the same; he lived, but he didn't have much time. If he didn't act now, those fears playing off in his head were going to happen, and he'd have no one but himself to blame. Closing his eyes, he heard the voice of his immediate older sister, Lynn, chant a mantra he heard so many times in his life before.
"Stink, the important thing when you're about to be killed because, I don't know, you're stupid, is that you stop being dumb!"
Okay, wrong quote. Digging deeper into his mind, he recovered another hidden gem. A Lana one? She always was good with nature. Shouldn't come too much as a surprise.
"Bro, what I learned is that ropes suck! I mean, they have four hundred-gajillion ways to be tied, but one loose hit, and blam! They come undone! They're weak... but when they really need to be good, well, like my good pal double-headed snake, they'll be your best friend! Trust me!"
Lincoln never did meet that double-headed snake, but what mattered most is the one thing keeping him alive: the loose rope that gave it its all to keep him alive. How could he let it down? As he swung against the darkening night's painful winds, he took in all the air he could.
He had to steady himself. For the rope; for himself.
For Luna.
Bag over his shoulder still, he threw away his fear, and looked to the bridge above. It rocked and shook, but still remained sturdy. It had to hang on just a little longer. A quick strut, and he'll be on the other side. The light was still far, but every step was another one closer to his final goal. His sister would be proud.
"Just gotta... start climbing... ah, dang it. Should've done your training when I had the chance, Lynn!"
Arms screamed at him to just give up, but that wasn't on the agenda today. He brought each finger upwards, followed by his legs hugging tight below, inching their way up the frayed bit of life-saving string. Teeth chomped down against one another, while his abdomen struggled underneath the weight of survival. He could never climb the damn rope in gym class, but that was so long ago, it wasn't even funny. He will survive. He will make it back.
The light shined as his body began emerging higher and higher up, the water becoming a mere distant memory. The bag never left his shoulder, almost as if it was guiding him along the way. Perhaps it was, and he was more than thankful for it. "I ain't letting you down!" He proclaimed, "I'm done with being down to begin with! Just gotta... get up there...!"
The bridge cracked, and he froze. A small bit of horror played against his mind. What if he did reach the top, and this danger refused to end? There couldn't be much life left in the poor thing, and he knew that well. There was a faint chance... no, a massive chance, that this was all for nothing...
"Like hell it is!"
Don't give up. Don't ever give up. He kept repeating it in his head. Reach the bridge, and get to the other side. The island had no room for quitters, and he sure as hell wasn't one of those. Not by a long shot.
"Gonna make it, Lunes. I hope you'll be proud! The whole family's getting a good story once we meet again!"
A good story, but as he should know by now, stories aren't always so linear. Every so often, a new conflict must reveal itself, damaging everything in its path. While he oozed with confidence, and while the bag over his shoulder still remained firm, there was something else on his person that sadly wasn't so secured. From his pocket, the guitar pick once used to symbolize luck... was about to meet its final end.
By some miracle, Lincoln felt the piece of plastic against the helm of his jeans, forcing him to look down once more. Though a wave of fear strolled over him, that wasn't the biggest issue running laps in his head. Rather, as he saw the pick descend, he felt like screaming again.
"No!" he shouted, before trying to reach one hand down. A massive mistake on his part. With him already struggling to stay afloat, how on earth did he plan on keeping himself steady with only one hand? He immediately felt himself slip, and by the time he recovered, he saw the worst thing possible. The guitar pick fluttered as it fell, dancing in the wind, before at last vanishing underneath the terrible grip of the lake below.
Lincoln looked down, and felt a loose bit of water run down from his eyes. The rope sagged as he struggled to keep himself together, with anger quickly replacing the fatigue he felt bellowing in his abdomen.
"L-Lunes... no..."
It was too late. The pick was gone. The lake claimed another victim, and if he didn't move fast, he was sure to join it. The rope at last began to fray and tear, and before long, its own strength will be no more. No matter his guilt, he knew he couldn't stand like this any longer.
He had to go... and leave his sister behind.
"No... don't think like that... don't!"
He climbed and climbed, tears streaming down his face. When he reached the top, he didn't feel scared. Even as the wood below cracked, he felt nothing out of the ordinary. When the handles began to sway, he felt nothing but shame. When he reached the ground once more on the other side, he just felt... emptiness.
And when he knew it was safe, he looked up towards the light in the distance, growing more pronounce as the night wore on.
And then he buckled under the weight of his knees, slamming his fists... and crying himself into despair.
"I picked up guitar recently. Wanted to give it a go, you know? Hey, not to impress the ladies! I'm more than that, thank you! Still... guess it's a nice perk. Is that how you won over Sam? Heh, kinda adorable thinking that way. Still... I'm glad you were there to influence me.
Thanks, Luna. Thank you."
