Back in the Cavern. Too tired, post later.

Mother returned from her trip tonight. It was lovely to see her again. Apparently time away from Father and in the warm of the African sun did her well. She was in Egypt! I spent the entire night asking her questions about it. Egypt was my first love, and although I’ve never been given the chance to travel there, I feel as though I am a native. As a child, I absorbed every book, every television programme and every picture of the area. It fueled my desire to explore.

I’m very grateful for the opportunity to hear about her adventures. She of course, asked me about my own. I feel as if I owe her more details, and I really need to discuss my concerns with someone, but I am unsure if it is wise.

A bright spot on this visit, I found my old camera! I was convinced it had been thrown away! I loved this camera when I was younger. The polarizing filter is scratched and the battery is dead, but other than that she is in fine condition. I’d been using my Canon Rebel to take pictures in the cavern, ever since most of the KI’s functionality went offline.

My old Nikon 4004 35mm. My pride and joy. I bought it myself when I was 15. I even had Father convert one of the unused bedrooms into a darkroom. Everyone transitioned to digital long ago, but I still enjoy the comforts of working with physical film.

A shame I don’t have the necessary supplies or time to convert somewhere in the cavern into a darkroom, and I definitely can’t get pictures of the Cavern or other Ages developed at the local chemists!

Still, I wonder if I can still get film for her! What a wonderful surprise!

I don’t know if I can stand staying here much longer. Father infuriates me with his greed. All he cares about is his money. “You already wasted a small fortune of mine so you could play about in the dirt!” he roared at me this morning, “I must have been drunk, allowing you to convince me to toss my money away on those lunatics!”

I can’t leave yet, not until my mother comes home. I want to at least attempt to explain to her my situation.

I’ve returned to the surface to visit my childhood home. It feels like nothing has changed here, like I’ve only been away for a few days. Marge greeted me with a big bear hug and took my bags to my room. Father was out, but returned shortly. He grunted a few questions at me, and shook my hand. It was all very proper, but I hope he is pleased to see his only son in good health.

Unfortunately, Mother was away when I returned, jet setting to Istanbul or some other place. I hope she will return before I leave again, or I will have to rely on Father to tell her I am in good health. Marge made quite a feast for the two of us, apparently she missed having more than one person to cook for! I’m so stuffed I can barely keep my eyes awake.

Things are not entirely comfortable, but I am glad to be home. The Cavern is so empty, I sometimes realise I’ve been talking to myself for hours. I sometimes imagine I can still hear the engineers, chipping away at rock with pickaxes.

Perhaps I’ll bring some music down to my quarters in the Cavern. Then at least I can talk with Mr. Miles and Mr. Coltrane.

It has been so long since the cavern emptied, and yet I have not dared venture into the areas of the City untouched by restoration efforts. The physical barriers aren’t the issue, I had little problem ignoring their warnings on the Great Stair with many other explorers those years ago. It is something else. Something intangible.

The first few weeks after the Cavern closed I busied myself with transporting supplies from the surface and suitably furnishing a living space. Of course, due to the location and nature of my work, I could not simply hire labourers to complete the task as I normally would, which significantly slowed my progress.

Once that work was completed, I had no more excuses. I was free to wander. free to explore every inch of the Cavern, unrestrained… and yet I didn’t. I stayed within the safe confines of the DRC-approved areas. For years, I’ve been obsessed with this place, frustrated with the setbacks and the DRC’s painfully slow approval process. Yet when these barriers are removed, I stand motionless.

If Father knew of this, I wonder if he would enjoy the irony of my reluctance to explore the City I was so insistant to journey to, or if he would be disappointed in me for so blatantly ignoring a Rule. Either way, he would scold me roundly.

Father is nothing if not consistant.

I must step outside. I must! If I cannot, the City will perish. I must search for the elements of its salvation. I will begin my journey to the outer districts. I only hope it will be worth it in the end.

First though, I will return home for the first time in almost six months. My family may be insufferable, but I do love them, and it would be horrid of me to let them think I’d perished down here.