A Tally Scratched in the Drain Wall

A prisoner's running tally of days scratched into the Undertow's drain wall, ending in a message to whoever climbs past it.

Rows of scratches, counted in fives, run the length of the wet stone — someone's days, kept until the counting stopped mattering more than the climbing. Below the last row, cut deeper, in a hand that pressed hard enough to grind the point away: THE MOUTH IS UP. THE HOUSE IS NOT. Keep climbing. There is a warden below who took the bar off — he will not stop you. There is worse below him. Do not go down for anything. Whoever reads this and gets out: someone counted these days. Say so, up there in the light.