There Is Always a Sunrise

The heart races, swiftly moving across the fiery landscape, and hastily dragging its reluctant owner along with it. Its goal, an escape from this place akin to hell, is almost within its grasp. My sloppily thrown together preparations don't seem to be enough though; a figure engulfed in shadows as black as a starless midnight blocks my way. I try to ask who this figure is, and from whence he came, but my lips lock themselves together. Then, as if he heard the thought as clearly as I said it in my mind, he steps forward to reveal himself. Even I knew that every story, including real life, needs an antagonist. Yet, like many others, I never expected to be my own. I mentally ask him why he blocks our way, and he gets even closer. The closer he gets, the more my heart seems to sink, cowering in immense fear. He begins convulsing, shifting into past experiences, present pains, and future worries. Luckily, my brain knows what my heart does not; that creature is not me. Hell, that creature isn't even real. Briefly, I compose myself, and stare at this tangible form of anxiety. Slowly, I begin to walk forward. The walk becomes a jog, the jog becomes a sprint, and within the blink of an eye I've moved forwards and the creature is gone. I continue trying to reach the light at the end of the tunnel, and the land itself around me seems agitated by this decision. The fires grow larger than my life itself, creating a graceful yet malicious dance around me. Sparks with a dark intensity fly past me wherever I trod, grazing my barren skin. A heavy gloom begins to slowly roll in. I try to run away from it, but disobeying my commands, my legs begin to crawl to a halt. I close my eyes and silently beg for any person, or any higher power to lift me up and carry me out of here, spending the last ounce of rapidly draining hope left in my body. I open my eyes, and look up, only to realize my last hope was spent in vain. I feel something grabbing me, preparing to drag me deep into the ominously approaching darkness. The steam from my last shed tear climbs my face as quickly as the tear rolled down. I think to myself, “There is no hope. I will never escape this.” Multiple creatures of billowing shadow whisper cruel words into my ear, reaffirming these thoughts. The figures all swirl around me, forming a pitch black tornado and releasing their intense hatred upon me. The largest, and darkest of the figures slowly comes out of the whirlwind and approaches me. A vindictive smile creeps across his face, and he slowly raises me a knife. A bit of reluctance builds up in me as I take the blade, but the faceless voices around me scream in joy, convincing me of the validity of this decision. I turn the knife around, and point at my throat. The cacophony of blackened screams around me grow so loud and restless that they're basically indistinguishable from typical white noise. I let out what I believe to be one last whimper: “goodbye world”. As I get ready to make death my escape from this hell, I can barely make out a seemingly human voice crying out against my decision. I hesitate, and slightly lower the blade. The whirlwind of shadowy figures around me begin to grow agitated. There it is again, and I could make it out clearly this time: a friendly, human voice. The screams around me that were originally of joy shift to sighs of disappointment, and wails of agony. My heart begins to rise. The tornado around me shrieks in pain and terror as an entrance is forced into the tornado. A figure of what appears to be pure light offers me their hand. I grasp them, hope welling up in me once more. That hope was all it took. The world flashes a white purer than the stars, and I feel grass beneath my feet. I look around me, and instead of my hellscape see a meadow, with the person shining brighter than both moon and sun combined smiling at me from within. That was the moment I realized something I now think everyone needs to know. The light at the end of the tunnel won't always be an object or come from within; the key to your cage is never inside with you. The light can be someone around you, an animal, a river, a song, whatever you want it to be. Light has no defined shape. Surround yourself with as many lights as possible, not figures of malevolent shadow.

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Terry

Hedonistically Freegan Vegan

Brooklyn, United States