Out of the Darkness|Episode 4

A Series of Vignettes

On the Soul’s Journey to Freedom

There she was.  Backlit.  Standing straight.  “Willowy” her friends used to say.  It seemed like she stood still for an eternity.  The breeze, wisping through the open shutters behind her, dancing with her long skirt.  On each side of her the attic came to its shallow peak.  Not a muscle moved.

Suddenly a tiny ebb was glimpsed.  It flowed in a slow creep down her cheek.  A solitary stream leaving behind it the shadow much like the shadowed days since she’d been here.

In this room that seemed to her to echo with laughter of days gone by, she felt as though she was the only shadow here.

Light seemed to gleam from every corner.  How she wished some of that light would pierce into her own soul-shine its opening rays and dispel the darkness!

That’s all it was right?  Just the absence of light?  What if she just surrendered to it?  What if she opened up without being cut and just let the light IN.  What if everyone could suddenly SEE her.

Would they hate her?  Would they punish her?  Would they make her go away?

How could that be worse than this?  She was already living all of those.

The sun glistened in and she felt it stronger.  She FELT it-she felt it and she liked it.

A tiny ray sprouted at the corner of her mouth.

Hope.  She felt HOPE.



Out of the Darkness|Episode 3

A Series of Vignettes

On the Soul’s Journey to Freedom

There was a time when this wasn’t ok-when the harsh realities of life still felt wrong to my soul.  Before my being had been in so many uncomfortable places that the discomfort began to wrap around me like a well loved blanket.

Those times of comfort were days of yore now.  This was my time now.  Those times when I laughed in my daddy’s arms, swooped up with joy when he came home from a long day at work.  The scent of mother strong as he passed me back to her and went to wash up for dinner.  Those happy days together, before the yelling and the struggles began.

Those times were almost mere shadows, blackened out by the darker shadows…

Crouching terrified in the corner.  Weeping unheard.

No wonder this felt comfortable.  Now at least I had some power. I could at least say, “This is MY life.”  I come back here to my glass to swirl it gently in the cloudy light of MY own accord.  No one has driven me here.  Everyone hears me when I cry here.  This is my place of comfort.  This is my place of power.  I have the power to choose, the power to stay or go.  The power to have one more and make it all go away.  This is my choice.

This is my freedom.


Out of the Darkness|Episode 2

A Series of Vignettes

On the Soul’s Journey to Freedom

The stakes were so high.  The rewards so… non existent.

She racked her brain for the “how” of finding herself here again.  Hadn’t she done this?  hadn’t she paid the dues?  Why was she back?  Was she here by choice?

She gave her locks a little shake as though to clear out the fog that had overtaken her.  Could this be happening again?

In the dim light it all looked so familiar.  The dark corners, the shady faces, the slight cloud of smoke hung just above the heads.  Was this hell?  A midnight visit to HERE again.  The tortured remembrance of things long past, dragged, kicking and silent into the pain of the present.

Wasn’t the present supposed to be some kind of gift?  A joy?  A love?  Hadn’t she heard somewhere that life was supposed to be GOOD?

Her neighbor had it on her t-shirt, her cousin on her bumper.  But then, that goodness hadn’t really spread to the neighbor’s husband, had it?  Not when the angry epitaphs slipped through the apartment walls and the bags he packed to leave her rattled and bounced the coffee cups in the complex as he yelled fitting replies behind him.

No, and her cousin hadn’t mentioned the bumper as she lovingly folded another bumper – one that would never be bumped, made with all faith and hope by our Auntie Jo when she heard the little one was finally on the way.  No.  Life wasn’t good.

Life was this haze.  This slowly suffocating haze that Rebecca breathed in yet again.

Life was not good.


Out of the Darkness|Episode 1

A Series of Vignettes

On the Soul’s Journey to Freedom


“The rent is too high.  We can not go there.”  She looked pleadingly at her husband, desperate to avoid disappointment again.  “Come on.”  He pleaded in return. “Things are looking up at work.  We’ll be able to afford it soon.”

Her shoulders fell and she gave in, again.  It was a familiar feeling.  The impending doom waiting ahead of her.  Looming upon the horizon.  Just hidden by a glimmer of hope.  Just out of sight behind a veil of faith.

She would meet it again.  Her foot plodded, first one, then the other, trudging knowingly behind the man she followed.  The rest of her body sagged under the weight of her heavy shoulders.

This was not the first time.

It would not be the last.

How she longed for a faith unshrouded in death.  A hope that did not glisten with a hidden ocean that would drown her once again.

Plod.  Plod.  Plod.  She would tread here again.  Hopeless.  Afraid.  Alone.