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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2113041
Rated: E · Short Story · Young Adult · #2113041
This is a short inspired by a re-occurring dream I have had in my darkest times.
“What is your name?” I whisper to the Lady of Light before me. I whisper in fear of waking the nightmares slumbering in the surrounding dark. Her face becomes perplexed at my question, but her sweet hazel eyes calm my shaking nerves.

“What is a name?” Her voice, soft as a steady stream, soothes my aching heart. She giggles, and for a moment it awakens something in me, something I haven’t felt in a long time, something I didn’t think I could ever feel again.

“Haven't you got one?” Fear holds my voice in a vice grip still, allowing only for a squeal to be produced, and I feel ashamed to be so weak before such a beautiful being.

“Where I come from there are no such things as names.” She sits down next to me on the bench that has been my only form of comfort in this black world. Her presence changes the color of the bench to white, another subject to contrast the abyss.

“I don’t understand.” I find myself on the other end of the bench away from her once I notice her light illuminating the dark on me. I keep my head down, and do not look at her again, I know better. I know not to trust the light. The light is treacherous. It lies. It breaks. It deceives. Do not trust the light.

“Neither do I.” Her voice bears a sense of sorrow now. As if she is hurt by my actions, but they all do that, all say that, and all hurt me in the end.

“Who are you?” I say, still unable to speak any louder.

She edges herself ever so carefully closer to me, wary of the anger in my voice.

“I am but a companion to those in pain who wish to be rid of it.” She places a hand on my thigh, but I dare not look at her.

“I bear no pain you can ever understand.” I clench the bottom edge of the bench in an attempt to suppress my agony that never leaves me. I feel myself about to burst into tears when I feel something warm against my left cheek, its soft and kind in nature. I feel fingers push into my skin tenderly to turn my head to face hers. The golden glow of her skin dries the wells of tears forming in my eyes, and her smile vanquishes everything. It ends the war in me I’ve been fighting for years in a second.

I have known only one to do this for me before, but even she turned out to be a false light. She has hurt me the deepest, and it is the memories of her, I run from. That pain which has destroyed my heart unlike ever before. A pain I never thought possible to end, and yet in this angel’s presence it ceases to exist. And in its place, a feeling I never thought I’d feel again fills me.

“Understanding pain, no matter how deep it is rooted, or how horrid the source, is what I do, lost one.” She takes my hand in hers and I finally feel what I envy in others, what I used to think killing would bring me…happiness.
© Copyright 2017 Aaron Arellano - Broken Soul (aaron2797 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2113041