She opened her eyes and it was the same beaming light from the dream. Piercing. The light was painful and abrasive. Blinding. Where was it coming from? It was relentless. She tried to rub it away. She tried to blink it away but it was strong and impenetrable. Now she was getting a headache. Unable to focus, she stumbled out of bed.
Her legs buckled and she fell to the floor.
She decided to call him. The phone seemed to ring for hours.
He answered. “Hi.”
She said, “I can’t sleep. I can’t see. I’ve been blinded. My legs are useless. Now I am laying here on my white carpet with the blood of my heart spilling out of me. I’m in a pool of blood. A puddle of crimson all around me. I’ve screamed but the neighbors are unmoved. I’m in a cage of vulnerability. I cannot be released by anyone but you. I’m alone. I’m getting weaker. I can feel my body getting colder. I’m afraid. When I bang on the walls with my right hand it slowly disintegrates. I will soon be a pillar of salt encapsulated in a puddle of blood. My heart bleeds for you. Please…please…help me.”
She hears the dial tone after he mutters to himself, “crazy b#!&h.”
The light begins to flicker. “I’m dying”, she definitively states. She begins to imagine what God must look like. She prepares all the questions she has for him. In all her pain, she doesn’t cry.
Then she hears the familiar sound of bongos. She sees something tall, slim, and solid. Most importantly. . .it stands alone. She squints and she can see. It’s a microphone.
The light is a spotlight.
She gradually crawled to the stage.
This excerpt is day 1 of a 30 day writing challenge. Comment, share, like. Tweet your feedback @shutyamouthnow. Happy holidays!