Free A Sadness Within by Sara Fiorenzo

think about a different life. After today, I didn’t want to think. I was done with thinking. But, as I told my sister what happened, I began to doubt everything. Maybe I should just go back to Chicago and live my life. It was so much simpler. I knew my place and never had to worry about emotions. And there was no thinking. No need to contemplate my actions or my existence.
    “Well, you can be a little intimidating!” my sister said. “Did you ever think about that? Did you use your normal tone of voice, because that can be pretty scary sometimes?” She sat down on the chair next to me trying to work out where I went wrong.
    “I don’t know, maybe. This is not exactly something I worry about on a daily basis. I didn’t know that I needed to be careful of something like that,” I glanced at her sideways, still afraid to truly give all of my thoughts away.
    “Of course you do! People are very sensitive to things like that!” She threw her legs over the arm of the chair and tossed her hair back. “I guess that we will just have to work on things.” 
    Confidence constantly poured from her. She knew who she was and wasn’t afraid.
    “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” I groaned, burying my head in my hands.
    She looked at me excitedly, and then bounced up and grabbed my hand, taking my actions as giving in to her.
    “I can help you, Will. If you will let me,” she said quietly, all humor gone.
    I studied her face for a moment. She had a glimmer in her eyes. A light. I have been told that it’s one thing that distinguished our kind from our human counterparts. My father and sister both shared the same glimmer. A part of their soul, he had said.  They say it was because they had never lost touch with their humanity. They had never fully given in to the nature of the disease that fed off of darkness and turned the infected into soulless creatures. They had managed to hold on and maintain a remotely human existence. Those who held on to the light never fell to the dark. I saw the excitement, the life, radiating off her and began to hope for a moment that I, too, could be like her.
    “Cee, can I ask you something?” I questioned tentatively, momentarily letting my guard down. She drew back slightly then nodded.
    “Do you think… I mean… is it possible that I still have a soul?” I turned away from her, not wanting to meet her eyes for fear of what she would see. When I did look, I felt the now constant pressure in my chest grow. Her eyes narrowed and she looked intently at me. Her mouth turned down at the corners and her brow furrowed. Suddenly, her face relaxed and she smiled.
    “Yes. There is… something.” She held my hand tenderly, excited by the prospect that she hadn’t totally lost me either.
    I breathed a deep sigh of relief and closed my eyes, feeling a tightness in my chest.
    “Maybe I can try to help you get it back, you know. I can help you truly feel. There is so much more out there when you open yourself up to the possibilities.” Her voice was soft and my chest nearly exploded as the ache consumed me. Weakness overcame my body, and I nearly crumpled to the ground. Images of Julia at the piano flashed through my mind. Her dark hair cascading over her shoulders, fingers arching delicately over the keys, a smile playing at her lips. And then, I imagined myself standing behind her, my hands on her shoulders while she played. It was a possibility. A glimpse into a conceivable future for me, and I suddenly wanted it so bad. I didn’t realize until now how much I was missing. For decades, I had given in to my urges and let myself become the monster that I thought I had to be. My father said he had never given up hope. Celia had never given up hope. No matter how bad it got, no matter how much trouble I was in, she always stood beside me and brought me back when I was at my darkest. Perhaps it was her belief in me that kept me holding on to a tiny part of light for all these years. My