The Flame

Darkness. It was all that existed. All that there is, all that there was, and all that would ever be. There was truly no other way to explain it, no words that could put into view the immenseness of this dark. There was nothing. Nothing but the cold darkness that extended out in front of him. Though an eternal, impenetrable darkness should have been intimidating, an unnatural calm washed over him. He felt entirely at ease; he had a reassurance that nothing would harm him here. Wherever ‘here’ might be, that is; he didn’t know where it was. He couldn’t recall how he had gotten here, and he was completely unaware of how to leave.

He stepped forward cautiously, very aware that any misstep could be his demise. After all, if he could see nothing, how was he to be sure there was not a pit full of ravenous vipers or spikes, hungry and demanding, waiting to impale him? He took a step, then another, then another. He extended his arms outward, his fingers searching for something to tell him this place had walls of some sort. Nothing could truly extend forever; everything that existed had to be contained, it had to have some kind of limits that prevented it from consuming all other things… didn’t it?

As he walked on, something slowly drew him forward. It was as if a rope were tied around his waist, pulling at him gently. It caressed his face, ruffling his hair, leading him on seductively. His steps echoed, reverberating from unseen walls. Were there walls here? There had to be, or some sort of boundary for sound to bounce off. He continued walking, though he couldn’t see where he was going; he could not even see his own hand if he were to hold it by his face. This was the most absolute, untainted darkness he had ever seen. Squid’s ink at midnight on the night of a new moon paled in comparison to what surrounded him now.

After a brief moment, he thought he saw a faint glimmer of light in the far distance. He must have been seeing things; there couldn’t possibly be light here. Yet as he approached, the light stayed the same in size and brightness. No matter how far he walked, he never actually got any closer to the light. He paused for a moment, drawing his brows together as his mouth twisted. He squinted at the light, trying to see what exactly it was. It didn’t move when he stood still, and it didn’t appear to be alive. It almost looked like a flame, its colors shifting faintly between hues of yellow and orange. It flickered from time to time, but it burned on steadily.

He trudged on through the darkness, trying to draw nearer to this strange flame. The air shifted and grew colder than before, a thin wind streaming through the darkness towards him. It carried whispers upon its back, sharp little whispers that wormed their way into his mind, stinging him with their vile words. He shook his head, ignoring the voices, but they kept coming. Slowly, he began to see pale faces in the dark. He had to be going insane. Some of the voices continued to spit their poison in his ear, while some cried out horribly. The faces screamed silently, torture in their eyes. Invisible hands pawed at him as the voices begged him to save them, to ignore the flame, to stay here in the darkness with them.

His body grew more weary yet and he collapsed to the ground, the voices rushing around him in a frenzy. Some were pleased at his suffering, others cried for him to get back up. For a brief moment he simply stayed there on his knees, breathing heavily. He lifted his head slowly to look at the flame. It still stood there, swaying and flickering gently. It beckoned to him, telling him that all he had to do was reach the light. All would be well. He hesitated, then pushed himself back upon his feet. A leaden step, then another. One slow step at a time, he continued on. The voices wailed in his ears conflictingly: keep going, give up, don’t stop, this is pointless. Save me, avenge me, help me, leave me.

He winced, his lungs burning. He didn’t know that he would ever reach this light at the end of the darkness. He truly didn’t even know if there was an end to this darkness. For all he knew, this peculiar light could simply be a mirage. Yet something deep within his soul told him to keep going. It pushed him on even when he thought he could go no longer. When he decided it was futile and was ready to merely give up, that little thing in his mind told him, Just one more step, that’s all. Then one more, and one more. Both his mind and body were exhausted, deprived of all energy. Pulling himself through this everlasting darkness took more than he could give. And yet he kept on, and on. He would neither falter nor fail until he reached the light; he had no other choice.

*Author's note: I wrote this story late last year, and I actually submitted it for a state writing contest. It goes through levels: first your grade, then your district, region, and finally state. I've never made it farther than the district level (I'll provide that story in the future), but that's never stopped me from trying. I've submitted stories for this competition for years, but I finally won grade level my 8th grade year. Then I won 9th, 10th (which went regional), and this story, 11th. Only downside is that these stories are usually under 1,000 words, so you'll get a little editorial after each one.

This story was written in some rough times, if you can't tell. I wrote this not just to release my emotions, but to encourage myself to be like him and keep pushing through the darkness, holding on to the hope that I'd reach the light eventually. I want this to be a message to everyone out there going through a hard time. From somebody who's been through more than their share, you will get through it. You just have to keep pushing forward; even when everything is screaming for you to give up, you have to believe that you'll find your way. And if you lose hope, that's okay, you just have to find it again. I believe in you, but you need to believe in yourself.

Anyway, I'll stop yapping now. Thank you all so much for reading this story, and I hope to see you again in the future!