Death’s Grip - March 12, 2011

It was dark at first; as though a cloak of shadow and despair had enveloped the world. All that could be heard was the gentle rhythm of a waterfall, like the sound of thousands of tears, falling in unison. Aala knew where she was. She closed her eyes and imagined the small lake that lay before her. She could not see it, but she could feel the water rush over her feet and catch on her dress. A faint, sad smile touched her face as she opened her eyes. The moon was shining down on her, reflecting in the water. Feeling comforted by the light that was now present, Aala stepped into the lake.

The cool water washed over her, sending a chill through her body. She stopped, contemplating her return to land, but something compelled her forward. Without resistance, she walked onwards, deeper and deeper until she could no longer feel the stones beneath her feet. She twirled and laughed and splashed at the water as though she were a child. She hadn’t felt so light-hearted in years.

Then, she felt a light tug on her dress. As she looked down in search of the cause, her cheerfulness was replaced by fear. For it had not been stones she was walking on… it was dead bodies. In a panicked rush, Aala struggled to swim away from the hands that now grabbed her ankles and her dress, pulling her underwater before she could even gasp for air. She tried to break free of their firm grasps but was becoming weak. Her lungs began to burn, their need for air causing her to inhale water. Choking and spluttering, she knew she needed to reach the surface.

But when she saw his face, Aala stopped struggling. She forgot her worries and her doubts. She forgot the cold, dead hands that held her underwater. She forgot that death was almost upon her. All the emotion drained from her heart as she stared at the body floating past. His face… She reached out to touch him, to see if he was alive. But it was not the hand around her wrist that had stopped her. It was one clear, adamant thought, 'No… your brother is dead.'

With a strangled cry Aala awoke twisted in her sheets and breathing rapidly. She stared at the bland ceiling, calming herself. 'It was just a dream,' she thought. With effort she sat up, loosening her grip on the sheets. 'Only a dream.' Her throat tightened as a tear rolled down her cheek. She brushed it away with haste and replaced it with a smile. A smile to convince the world she was fine. A smile to convince herself that everything would be fine. A smile that didn’t reach her eyes.
 

-JourneyBeforeDestination