Into the Light. Part One

There had been a brief time, two years ago where he had lived in bright sunlight, believing himself to be the happiest man alive. It had seemed like he had been waiting for this flame forever and now it was here wasn’t going to let it go out. Nothing would extinguish the heat that burned so hot and so beautifully painful. Nothing and no one would be allowed to take away the beauty that he saw deep within the dancing orange and white flame.

Then it all changed. He looked upon the light with someone else’s eyes. Someone had stolen him away, replaced him with a frightening darkness and anger. Where this had come from he didn’t know. It was as if a shade had come down, slowly but surely dimming the light until it was almost indistinguishable from the once colourful room. Where bright colours filled his head there was now shades of purple black and red.

He welcomed the dark man in with open eyes. An old friend come to visit and sit awhile, to join him in the shadows and talk about old times. ‘Where have you been?’ the dark man asked? ‘I’ve missed you. The burning candle is too bright, too alive. Come back to where it’s safe, come back and join me in the silent confusion you loved so much!’ And he looked down upon the white dancing flame, said goodbye and snuffed the flame out with a pinch of his fingers.

He’d been sitting in darkness for years. Wondering, as he looked at the dim shadows where his light had gone to. Time had passed so slowly, he’d been running in a swamp, expending so much energy and getting nowhere, becoming so tired, so very tired. There had been so many questions and no one to answer them even though he prayed each night, closed his eyes so tight that he cried and choked on the silence. So many books he had read, so many pages flickered past but still seemed blank empty and confused.

Never had he felt such emptiness. He had become a mere silhouette, existing in solitude, exiled from emotion, lost in only pain. Still he searched and was met with nothing but a wall of enormous height and thickness. He could sense the answer lying just beyond, just out of reach but surrounded by a bed of thorns, dripping poison and lies.

Then from that darkness a pinprick of white appeared, the briefest glimpse of hope slowly grew until he had to shield his eyes for fear of being burnt.