A sigh escaped the lips. Fingers emerged from the blanket. Then wrists. Then elbows. The fingers flexed and reached for the ceiling. The girl was awake and rested. But this refreshing feeling went unnoticed. Instead, her awareness was directed toward an oddness with which this particular morning had presented her, an oddness all other days had lacked.

All she saw were shades of gray. Gray walls, gray fan blades, and a darker shade of the same color for the floor. Even her usually colorful coverlet was slate gray this morning. She slid out of bed, confused and a little nervous. Walking over to the window, the girl looked out. The sky was gray too, as was the grass, and the trees and her bicycle leaning against the garage.

The girl dressed and stepped out of her room and took the stairs. No one was about; her parents and siblings must still be sleeping. She entered the mudroom. A double take was in order when she caught sight of the front door. It was open. She shuffled over to the opening and peeked out. Still gray out. Suddenly she felt a push from behind. Staggering forward, she quickly looked back. No one was there. She obeyed the urge and evacuated the porch. Down the front path. Out the gate.

Two houses down was where one of her schoolmates lived. As she approached, she glanced up at the two-story structure and realized she could see through the walls. There was her friend sitting on her bed on the second floor. The girl’s eyes were captivated by the image of her friend, who seemed to be tangled. Tangled in whisps of gray matter swirling and knotting about her body. As the girl watched, she saw her friend try to stand and saw her gray bonds tighten into a stranglehold until she sat back down. Again and again, her friend attempted to rise until finally she gave up and curled into a ball, pitiful in her helplessness. The invisible force pushed the girl past the frightful scene. Further down the sidewalk, she came to the corner of the block and saw a pedestrian coming from the other direction. A man. But he possessed an oddity of his own, like her friend. The air was dark about him—almost black. How could he see? She could barely perceive his features as he stumbled past. Yet another figure came into view—two in fact. Students from the nearby university, no doubt, as both carried backpacks. However, both were doubled over as if their rucksacks were filled with stones. What could they possibly be carrying that could be so heavy? And who carried such heavy things anyway? Why didn’t they get rid of all that extra weight? The two passed by without a glance.

The sidewalk turned around a corner, and the girl turned with it around what she noticed was the post office, usually red brick, now the color of a brooding cumulonimbus. As she turned, she tripped over something, almost landing on her face. The form of a young woman lay on the ground, but it was translucent and hollow, like the shed skin of a snake. As the girl regained her balance, she looked ahead and saw more of the odd husks, all capturing the likeness of the same person. Then she saw the woman. The girl drew quite near but started back as the woman grabbed at her own skin. Her fingers dug into the surface of her body. She tugged and scrabbled until they had a decent handhold. Her fingers fumbled and yanked desperately as they struggled to free the woman from her own skin. Finally, another husk fell to the pavement, yet the woman remained unchanged. She stumbled and fell to her knees, weary eyes downcast, hopeless features wet with tears. She glanced up at the girl with a fathomless expression. The girl ran. But she could not escape the mournful sights. Pain was everywhere. Everyone she saw was plagued by some burden or strangled by some strange vision of darkness. The girl’s own sadness rose with the sights; her own tears overflowed. After what seemed like an hour of running blind, she collapsed, sobbing under a willow whose branches overhung the sidewalk. Her hands covered her face as her song of despair rose to the skies. What had she seen? What was this darkness, this lack of life, color, and joy? Was this how things truly were? She thought she knew her friend two houses down; her friend was happy, always telling jokes and poking fun. She did well in school and had many friends. Yet the vision of her in her room was that of pain, of struggling with some forces that clearly had the upper hand. Was that her real friend? And what did the strange sights of all the other people mean? They all seemed so hopeless and helpless. She cried harder. The tears gathered between her fingers. Oh, everything was dark. She could not escape it. The girl’s fingers were dripping now. She lowered them to wipe them on her pants. As she did so, her downcast face caught sight of her torso. A large dark spot—no, a hole—sat in her chest like the mouth of an empty cave. An ache radiated from it. A jolting reality hit her: she knew that ache; it had been with her for… well, now that she thought about it… always? Perhaps she had simply never thought about it directly before. It was apparent that she possessed her own plague of darkness, and how deep and bitter it was.

She sat curled in a heap on the walk. Her store of tears ran dry. Cold despair laid hold. She had no desire to move anymore.

Time passed unheeded.

Then, the strange nudge returned. It urged the girl to stand, or rather, lifted her to her feet.

Weary, she began to walk. Why? She didn’t know. On and on, she passed down streets unknown and through the town square unaware of her surroundings. Only aware of the aching cavern in her chest.

Suddenly she stopped.

Turning, she faced a building quaint in size with a wooden, old-fashioned door. The girl noticed this not. Her eyes were on the window. A window of colored glass. Colored glass. Blue, green, burgundy, yellow, magenta, crimson—lots of crimson. It was beautiful. A small gold latch held the window closed. The girl reached for it, a sudden longing to touch it laying hold of her. She had to open it. She must know what was behind it.

But alas, all in vain. She could not grasp the latch. The distance was too great.

The girl collapsed, overcome with despair. Fresh tears leaked out.

Her quest was hopeless.

“Child.”

The girl’s eyes shot open.

The single word vibrated in the air.

“Weep no more.”

She looked about. No one.

“Will you trust me?”

The girl spoke.

“Who are you?”

“I am Help.”

“Can you help me open the latch?”

“Do you believe I can?”

“Yes,” came the simple reply.

Suddenly the window was before her. She reached for the latch. It opened easily as if well oiled.

A light sat within, warm and bright.

The girl reached out and grasped it. Soft and warm to the touch, the girl held it close.

A shocking thing happened: the hole in her chest evaporated. The weight of sadness vanished like a morning mist.

She was whole.

Peace.

“Go and share your light.” The voice was warm. Warmer even then the light, a depth to it she could not fathom, but the tone of love was inescapable. But she didn’t want to escape. She wanted to listen to it forever.

Then she remembered… the others. All those she had seen. She must go…

The girl awoke. The sun was warm and yellow.

Like the light.