It was a night empty and cold. The wind howled outside my window filling the dark house with a low melody that settled over me like a blanket. The moon shone in the sky enveloping the world in a grey haze. I was lying in bed looking up to the blank ceiling my mind unable to shut off. The thoughts were like a violent storm that would not settle; they could not and would not quiet down. My body felt heavy as it sank into the mattress and the darkness that seemed to surround me felt stagnant.
The silence was washed out by the sound of soft feet hitting the wooden floor. The darkness suddenly came to life as I saw shadows come to dance on the moon lit wall opposite to the window. An apparition one sickly and pale, her face sucken and her eyes a light with death. Soft auburn curls framed her face and there seemed to be a ghost of a smile that rested upon her lips. She stood over me an apparition. Her mouth came to whisper a question What are you doing? It was a strange question. I thought it had been very clear. What I was doing. My throat had dried and I couldn’t form the words that wanted to come out.
I wanted to die; to be carried away with the wind. An apparition of the life that once was. I was slipping away into a dream yes that’s what this was, a dream. The apparition was still standing over me her eyes blank of any feeling or life, the wind was still played its low melody.
You aren’t going anywhere. It said in a low voice its voice dry and cold. I got angry. I wanted to leave I was tired. My bones were weak and unable to carry me any further. I wanted to rest, to seep forever,
You must stay, you still have life left in you.
And then she was gone. The darkness once again grew stagnant and the silence once again settled upon the house. I laid there unable to move as the sleeping pills took affect. My throat was dry and my head hurt but moon was so beautiful and I was scared. Scared of what I would face if I were to leave. Would I see her? Her pale skin and sickly blank smile. The reflection of death;my death. The fear was stronger then the need to leave and the wind sang its low melody along with the moon that quieted the darkness. The world was dark but there was also light.
I didn’t leave that night. I woke up the next morning with the sun shining through the window and sounds of birds. The darkness was gone, and my head was quiet; the storm had passed.