Free Tell Me My Name by Mary Fan Page A

despair. I want to die. What’s the sense in living like
this, trapped and awaiting torment, without even knowing who I am?
If I had a sense of self to cling to, or a home to miss, I might at
least have hope. But as I am, I have nothing.
    Nothing .
    I want to summon the strength to press
on, but my willpower is spent. Even knowing that the Divinity would
frown upon my thoughts can’t keep them away. The coldness of the
metal floor bites my bare leg, and I instinctively draw it up into
the warmth of the cloak.
    The cloak given to me by a
kind stranger. There is good in this
world , I remind myself. I have to hold on
to that thought. Without it, I would let the despair defeat me and
lose any chance of surviving. But I have to hope, to believe that
life is worth living. There is good in
this world …

 
     
     
    The mist undulates
through the darkness, slow and menacing. I
back away from it, frightened to the core. I know that mist. If it
catches me, it will burn me to cinders, but not before tormenting
me with its fiery grasp.
    A sudden motion catches my
eye, and I whirl toward it. But all I see is more of the silver
haze, winding through empty blackness.
    Another movement. I spin
to face it and catch a glimpse of whiteness so pure, it makes the
mist look blackened and dirty. Whatever it is, it must lie beyond
the smokiness obscuring everything.
    Should I go toward it and
find out what it is, knowing what the mist will do to
me?
    A tugging in my heart
urges me onward, but fear holds me back. I don’t want to feel that
fire again, especially when facing it has brought me nothing but
pain.
    Then the whiteness appears
again, glowing through the mist before me, and I draw back, fearing
the mist will approach. It doesn’t. Instead, the bright object
emerges, taking the form of a snowy horse. Only its face is clear –
the rest remains a barely recognizable blur in the haze. It regards
me with wise, violet eyes, and blinks once.
    Its presence is soothing
and safe, like it once protected and nurtured me. The desire to go
to it and feel the warmth of its sureness overcomes me, and I
forget my fear. I force my feet to begin moving, and walk toward it
…
     
    Stars fill the tiny window to the
outside, and for a moment I just stare at them, hypnotized by their
beauty. They represent the good in a world of darkness – someone
told me that once, but I don’t try to remember who. I know better
than that now.
    My body aches, and I push off the
ground, sitting up. When did I fall asleep? How long was I
unconscious? The exhaustion from my panic must have caused me to
drift off, and the worldly complaints of my body tell me I’ve been
lying here for a while. My throat itches with thirst, and my
stomach feels hollow with hunger. And yet I’ve no desire to relieve
either of them, since I can’t allay the deeper thirst and hunger of
my mind.
    This time, I actually wish I’d stayed
in the dreamscape – at least a little longer. That horse – it could
mean anything, since it’s such a common creature, but its presence
comforted me like nothing else could. I felt like … like I was
looking into the face of someone who loved me. Not merely as an
animal loves its master – as a mother loves its child.
    But that’s just more nonsense. How
could I have a horse for a mother?
    I stand with a sigh, gazing out at the
stars. If only my dreams would show me something that makes sense,
for once. Or, if they must show nonsense, why do they have to seem
so real, tantalizing me with the thought that they could be
memories, only to yank the hope out from under me when I wake and
confront reality?
    The stars represent goodness, but
they’re beyond my reach. And staring out the window just reminds me
of how small the opening is, and how impossible it is to escape
through it. I turn away and lean back against the wall, then sink
to the ground. The sphere of yellow light sits in the nearby
corner, but its warmth does nothing to comfort me.
    Just then,