Only Memory Is Light

Chapter One

      She opened her eyes and looked only onward into the darkness. How did she get to where she was? She had too many questions as to why she was at point B and how point A carried her to this specific moment in time. Getting out of the darkness and into the light was all that she was worried about, but as she pushed upwards she let out a yelp and her breath shortened and slowed and that's when the tears flowed. She brought her hands up towards her face and squinted through the darkness at her palms and still couldn't see what had created that sharp pain. Unexpectedly a memory was the only light in the world. The memory of her fighting back from an assaulter, someone was throwing glass at her, but who?


      Placing her hands onto the ground and gritting her teeth as hard as she could without cracking them like a porcelain doll in an antique shop, she made her way to her feet. As she struggled to her feet she wavered back and forth, her head felt as light as a balloon, as if she herself was floating away just as her memories had. As fast as the feeling appeared it disappeared, like a rabbit in a hat of a magic act. She started running, but she was stumbling as she attempted to get to her destination, but what was it? What was her destination. She stopped in her tracks and looked around, there was only a faint glow on the trees, plants, and flowers around her that only fireflies and crescent moons could create, but not either of those mystical wonders of the world were in sight. More drops fell down her cheeks, but she didn't know what it was, but when she lifted her hand towards her face in such a way that you would a significant other, so soft and caring, she felt something opposite of that nature. She touched a hot liquid, not tears, but blood, but why was she bleeding?


      She yelled out into the void around her "WHY!" but as to why she yelled that she had no idea. Was it a question as to why she was here or a question to something else entirely, she couldn't place her finger on it. If she did it would be blood streaked like her face. God, what she would give to see color again. What she would give to see faces and safety. What she would give to her dog, her cat, or more importantly her family members smiling faces. Tears fell slowly, as rain drops down a car window would do on a dewy fall afternoon. The tears that fell mixed with her blood that was smeared as though she was a sacrifice in a damn ritual, she laid down, for she had nothing else to do, nothing else to live for, if she was even living. What was she doing? Her head was spinning just as she passed out.