Kyle J Grossman

Opituary

Two hundred and thirteen tries. I now stand at the edge of the pit, elated to have escaped after being trapped for so long. The pit itself looks to be about twenty feet deep with stone walls. The winter air is cold, but it feels good after the brutal climb. I look towards the woods. I can go. Leave this place forever. Forget about it and move on, but I can’t. She’s still down there.