WHISPERS

by C. S.

As I find myself on the verge of hopelessness -
(helplessness) it doesn't matter, they are synonymous to me right now -
I hear a resounding voice, and yet almost inaudible, a somewhat ringing-in-my-ears.
I turn around to face the speaker -
him, her, it, I cannot distinguish -
only to be greeted by a cool breeze.
The wind is icy on my cheek,
almost painful as it bites my lips,
but I barely notice as I hear that strange voice again.

"Who's there?" I cry out.
I am half-curious, half-terrified,
the possibility of a ghost coming to mind and yet...
I do not sense any danger.

Another whisper, yet there is still no one there.
However eerie, it soothes me,
like a mother's lullaby.

Then silence, almost deafening.
Suddenly, it feels lonesome -
a bit depressing - as though I've been stripped off the world,
and yet I find myself at a realization:
I am not alone. I hear their voices. I see them now.

And finally, I look back once more,
as though I am looking at a mirror.
I smile, the other does not.
I frown, and she remains the same.
I sigh and turn around to walk away
while she refuses to move.

The others are waiting,
their gentle smiles and soft voices reach out to me
as they invite me to come with them.

Without thinking, I grab an outstretched hand.
Without looking back, I step forward into what seemed like the sun.

I do not know where this path leads to
or what this future holds,
but I am no longer alone.
I no longer feel the emptiness and the pain of helplessness -
(hopelessness) it doesn't matter,
they are things of the past.

...

"Who's there?" you cry out.
I try to reach you,
and the others, can you hear them call your name?
You are lonesome now, but not for much longer.
Soon, you will find comfort in my arms,
as I've found it in theirs.