The Rescue

In a dark cave sits a girl.

Broken, she thinks, broken beyond repair.

And worse than that.

Yes, even before I had these hideous wounds, I wasn’t fully right.

At my very best, so tarnished.

At my brightest, so dull.

No use could there ever be for me.

The path to the top of the cave is worn and impassable.

No matter, she has long since given up trying to leave.

Too many times of gathering strength, courage summoned, only to slide back to the bottom; the cuts and gashes deeper than ever.

So dark, she says to the black void.

So lonely.

What is lonely? says a voice.

A small bird perches at the edge of the opening. His beauty dazzles her eyes.

Eyes accustomed only to seeing all that was encrusted in darkness.

Someone asked me a question, she thought. Someone actually asked about my pain.

So entranced that someone had spoken to her. Seen her. Asked about her pain.

Could I have imagined?

A small flutter of wings snaps her back to the question.

Lonely is a void from the inside out, she says. A sea of nothingness where what touches you never reaches the parts that feel.

My kindness to you, that you know such a thing, chirped the bird gently.

Kindness. Kindness? She could scarcely remember the sensation.

Only scolding, a beating, had ever met the expression of her grief.

Have you never known lonely? she asks.

No, he replies. I am always with the other Creatures. I live in the Sunplace.

The Sunplace. How wonderful it must be there. But what about the night, in the dark?

I fly in the sunlight and sleep under stars. I am never in the dark said the bird.

The longing choked her, a searing pain, nearly stopping her breath.

How I wish I could go there.

You could, he said, you could come with me.

So dazzling you are, but I cannot leave this place. I don’t belong in your world. It cannot be done.

Then I shall sit with you, he said.

Why, but why? When you can fly to the most sparkling of places?

The sparkle here enchants me, he replies, so unusual.

Where, where do you see it?

Why, all over you dear girl. That’s how I found this place.

Oh no, there’s only ugliness here, beautiful bird. Only scars.

I will sit a while. We shall sit together, my dear.

He spoke of the Sunplace.

She told of the crime that had cast her into the cave. Of how long she had fought to get out.

Why, dear girl, did you not know that the cave walls move on their own?

How could that be? No, beautiful bird, I have climbed and clawed them them many times.

It is the Light that makes them move, dear girl.

Then that is why she says, for there is no light. Never is there light here.

Just gently rub your eyes my dear, to remove what makes you suffer, he says. Only gently.

A dance of light flickers.

A movement of the walls.

Where, from where does that Light come? she gasps.

From you dearest girl.

Always the Light has been with you.

Always you have been this bright.

Always you have been enough. More than enough. So much more than enough.

But beautiful bird, what made the Light come out?

Love, dear girl.

Love.