You open your eyes. Your head is pounding, and what little you're able to make out in the dark is very blurry. You do a quick check of your body. Starting with your feet, you slowly work your way up and make sure everything's OK. You think it probably is, though you're pretty banged up. You try to raise your head slowly, just enough to raise the back of your head from the floor. Immediately, a wave of nausea passes over you and you pass out.
After some time–you're not sure how long–you open your eyes. You feel much more clear-headed this time around. Carefully, slowly, you raise your head. Everything feels normal, and you slowly sit up in place.
You try to remember what happened. You were scouting for fresh water, and the next thing you know, you're laying on the floor. The floor is hard; it must be rock, you decide. You tilt your head up and see a sliver of light. Ah, you realize: you must have fallen into a cave while you were scouting. Cautiously, you push yourself up and get on your feet. Your left ankle is in pretty bad shape, but you can put weight on it. Hopefully it's not broken.
As carefully as possible, you walk around slowly with your arms extended, trying to feel walls. Yes, the walls feel like rock, too. They're damp and cold–definitely the way you'd expect cave walls to feel.
As you move around, you try to build a mental image of what the cave must look like, which is difficult, since there's virtually no light inside. You consider your options. The best choice, you decide, is to continue walking around slowly until you reach an area where there's more light.
You laugh out loud unintentionally. For a split second, you wonder if you're dead; after all, you're trying to walk into the light. No, this is definitely real, you decide, cursing at nobody in particular.
After an indeterminate amount of time wandering around with your arms extended, you feel like you probably have a pretty good understanding of the layout of the cave, or at least as good an understanding as you're going to get. Unfortunately, the part of the cave where you woke up seems to be the only part with any light at all in it. You look up at the light and sigh, considering your options.
It could be nighttime, you reason. After all, you have no sense of time at all inside the cave. Maybe in a few hours it will be lighter and you'll have an easier time planning your escape.
On the other hand, it could be blazing daylight outside. You think hard, staring up at what you think is probably the ceiling. No, it can't be. There's just not enough light.
You try for a moment to gauge how tired you are, and realize it's impossible. A combination of adrenaline and throbbing pain make it impossible to know for sure. Too bad, you think. If you had been tired, it could have been a good indication that it was nighttime.
You decide to take a chance. You'll sit down, lean against the wall of the cave, and wait for morning, you decide. Or at least you hope you'll wait for morning.
Time becomes nonexistent. There is no sound, nothing to see, nothing to feel. All there is is you. Your mind races, vivid images flashing across your field of vision. You swear you can hear music coming from somewhere in the distance, though you know that's impossible. Consciousness and sleep blend into each other as you drift into the world your mind has created.
You have no idea how long has passed, but you eventually decide it's definitely lighter now than it was before. Your heart races. This is your best chance to get out, you decide. Cautiously, you stand up. Immediately you're able to see the faint outline of a ledge in the rocks. You couldn't have possibly felt it in the dark: it's probably six feet high, you decide. With some difficulty, you're able to get a grip on the wet rock and pull yourself up onto the ledge.
As you turn around and get your bearings, you see the source of the light. There's another ledge up above. You climb that one, stand up, and realize you're able to see leaves. This must be the way out! You spontaneously cheer out loud, laughing when you realize there's nobody around to hear you. You climb up the ledge, pull yourself up, and sit on the ground, outside, in the sunlight.
Considering the difficulty of getting out of the cave, you realize what a terrible experience falling in must have been. There would have been no other way than to bounce off all those ledges. You're lucky to be alive, you decide. You do a quick inspection of yourself and see no physical damage, other than thick bruises that you know will look worse later.
With a sigh of relief, you pull yourself up and continue to look for a fresh water source.