The rumble progresses and the sky grows darker. Clouds gather in and darkness builds around our little hutment. We stare into each other’s eyes and no words are spoken. The unthinkable was happening; the times we had prepared for in our minds, and had silently prayed to forget, were becoming undeniable. We run into our excuse for a shelter, broken down ruins already conquered by time. We find our little nooks, camouflage into the walls and wish that they’d leave us alone this one.
We sit tightly huddled, mom and I, staring directly into the fear in each others’ eyes. There is little that we can share with each other, when the inevitable end lay ahead. Was this the time when we quietly reminisced about pearly bright days? Do we discuss about the father and the husband that we do not see around anymore? We choose silence and our hands grow moist with sweat.
We see other faces, bodies forced into spots uninhabitable and nothing but periodic rustle of dust under someone’s breath giving away the truth. We see a rodent run from one crevice in the wall to another. The thought of being eaten alive presented itself as a saner choice that being a victim to their attack. We pray the rodent won over the others and close our eyes. I feel the hollow in my soul build and grow larger. I have carried that hollow in me for a while now, the feeling confirms that fact. I do not recollect how we found ourselves in the hutment or what yesterday had been. I only feel the desperate need in me to protect myself from the others.
I must definitely have been warned about their terror, for I had not hesitated for a moment when I’d seen signs of their arrival light up.
The rumbling grows louder and the darkness progresses; we are engulfed in a form of black that we can barely conjure. Whatever it was that we had been warned against, was here and we could feel it’s unmistakable presence around us. The silly me wanted to be brave, open my eyes and make friends with them. The sane me shut her eyes tight and hoped for it all to fade away, just another nightmare that we all wake from with a start. The rest of us were fighting each’s own little battles because a battlefield lay ahead for sure.
I did not feel it coming; I do not have a recollection of being taken. I have a faint remembrance of being up in the air, lifted by a merciless force that had surprisingly left me alive. I see my feet lie ahead of me, with the dense woods far beyond. My dress rustles in the updraft but I do not feel the chill. My eyes shut and the thought fades away. The next time I wake up, a strong pain lashes through my feet and up to my head. My feet it is. I struggle against nothing and look at my right leg wrapped in fresh white gauze. I do not feel the metal rod inside of me any longer; I feel healed. I look around and see nothing; No one.
I wake up to a very familiar feeling that lingers around me; I set my eyes on the face of a man I’ve known for years. I have absolutely no recollection of who he is, but I listen to him non-hesitantly. I let him sit by me and care for my wound while I search for me in my head. He seems to have a mysterious quality of sucking away all thoughts from me. The peace that the lack of thought brings with it is amazing; frees me into a vapor. I pass between states of being asleep and awake with the constant knowledge of him being around. I sense his tender touch and my soul flutters, immensely acquainted with him from time in the past.
I do not know how much time has passed since the dark day but I seem to elude any thoughts of that life now. Wasn’t I supposed to be worried about what had happened to my people? My mother had definitely been one of them; Others had to be around. And yet I sat in peace. Why did I not seem threatened by my current state? Why did they take me, care for me and free me? Who was he?
Recollections returned of a high ground, the wind blowing on our faces. I do not know if this was a dream, a thought, an event in the past or a forecast of the future. He is sitting beside me, endearing and yet mundane. I feel his strong arms around my shoulders and I nuzzle into their comfort. I see him engaged in a conversation with others, yet not once do I feel distant from him. A soft pull towards him, a brief glance in my direction and I know nothing else except for me being there mattered to him. The recognizable feeling returns and I am home.
The peace jolts me out of sleep and I wake up. It is four in the morning and I can’t get his face out of my head. Wonted and yet novel. Earthly, yet angelic. Heaven!