By: Stacy L.
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Dark spiraling tunnels, spiraling out of control. A hand reaches out grabbing holding on. A voice splits the air around him, “Daniel. Daniel you’re okay…you’re okay…”
He tosses, shattered glass, silent screams. She’s here. She’s here.
Voices faint but familiar. One sharper than all the rest, shouting a warning “Daniel you have to go back!”
He sat bolt upright in the bed wiping the sweat off his brow aware that he was breathing much too fast. He gazed around the room lost at first, unable to make sense of where he was or even whom he was. All he could hear was her voice calling to him, telling him he wasn’t alone, telling him he had to go back. Go back? Where?
He shook his head trying to clear it and silence the sounds. She had been here. He was certain but she was lost now, gone from this world. Her life had been cut dramatically short, too short. He swallowed hard closing his eyes as he felt the ache within. The ache that was once filled with her love, filled with her. He softly growled as he jerked out of the bed tossing the covers in anger marching towards the bathroom as the veil of sleep finally lifted. He approached the sink, turning on the water with one quick jerk before splashing the cool liquid onto his face and gazing fixedly in the mirror. He paused staring in shock at the image reflecting back at him. The person in the mirror was a stranger.
As he continued to stare transfixed by the image there he saw sadness, emptiness, despair intermingled with need, guilt and hopeless ness. He had been too late. He hadn’t saved her. She died because of him. He couldn’t protect her. He couldn’t exchange his life for hers. Had the choice been his to make he would have surrendered his soul for hers. She was too precious to be lost. She was needed too much. While he…he was just fighting to survive, fighting to live and move on with his life. He was lost without her. He had no idea what to do. She was gone and with her had died his soul.
The day of her funeral he had fought to maintain a mask of stern icy indifference. He had been determined not to let them see, not to let anyone see how her death had torn him apart, had torn him to shreds limb for limb. He had felt part of himself dying on that day and though he struggled to move on, to accept that it was her time to go he found that he resented the powers that be for daring to steal her away from those who needed her most.
Life would continue on and the memory of Janet Fraiser would only live on in her friends, in those who loved her. She would be missed but soon the moors of time would dim her memory, obscure her beautiful essence and devour all traces of her. She would be forgotten, another name on the walls of time, etched permanently into the threads and intertwining with the ages. Her spirit would live on, but she would be but a memory known only to those who had loved her, who had cherished her and when they too were called upon then all traces of her would be forgotten, lost in the endless sands of time. What a crude way to commemorate the life of someone. Remembered only by those she had left behind and forgotten when all trace of those who had loved her also disappeared.
What darkness there would be in that world, to have no memory of such a beautiful woman, to have never known her kindness, her comfort, her goodness… Pity those who never knew her or had the chance to be privy to the touch of her healing hands. She was a beacon of light, had been for him on many occasions. She was there when he had died. She was there when he had joined the angels and had stood with him, fought for him, cried for him when his life was no more. He had left her behind to pursue a higher goal returning only to lose her and the year that he could have had with her. He loved her so much yet had so little time with her. Did she ever know how much he had loved her? Did she know how important she was to him? Did she know that he lived for her? Would she ever know? Probably not, for her life was no more taken so quickly and stolen from the world forever. Life was so unfair. Why did so many who were desperately needed have to be taken away? Why?
He gazed at the man in the mirror noting the tears now apparent on those cheeks glistening in the light. Who was that man? Why was he so sad? He reached out towards the reflection wanting to offer comfort but as he pressed a hand to the man’s face all he felt was cold sleekness beneath his fingers. As the coldness surrounded him, filled him he lashed out realizing that man in the mirror was him and as his hand connected with the smooth shiny surface he heard the sounds of glass breaking, shattering into thousands of tiny shards, splintering and cracking giving way to rubble. As he stared intently at the wreckage he noticed the shimmering pieces turning red, crimson and stared in awe. How pretty to see shiny silver pieces intermixing with the beautiful crimson that rained down upon them. He was transfixed and awed by the diabolic mosaic melding before him. He moaned as his hand began to throb but shrugged off the pain finding that he’d much rather look at the art being created before him. He closed his eyes as lightheadedness swamped him and swayed unsteadily on his feet. He shook his head to clear it hearing the softest of whispers caress his ears: “Daniel. Daniel you’re okay…you’re okay…”
He felt chilled as he experienced temporary déjà vu. Hadn’t he dreamed those words? Where the hell had they come from? He tried to focus his attention feeling himself swaying yet again. He tried to comprehend what was happening when brightness encompassed his vision…
Spinning out of control, grabbing, reaching out desperately for something to hold onto. Something, someone…falling in a never-ending spiral towards…
A hand latched onto his wrist and he was being pulled back. Back to the light, back to reality…back from the deep dark depths of his soul. He was lost and now saved. She came to him in his darkest hour. She was here with him now, had been all along. She didn’t leave. She’s been here all along guiding him, comforting him…loving him.
** The End **
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