“What if I fall?” she said.
“Then you fall.”
She sighed, wiped the tears that were streaming down her face, looked up and took that first, unknown, terrifying step.
Nothing miraculous happened. No, she didn’t fall, but she also hadn’t made it across the white chasm.
“Will it be like this for all the steps?” she asked.
“Most of them.” the answers weren’t a voice, they weren’t really words, but feelings that she had translated in these expressed words.
She looked around at the expansive nothingness surrounding her. Standing on what felt like solid ground, but nothing underneath, breathing what must be air, but no feel of it. There were no sounds, no movements but her own.
It wasn’t an option to return to the comfortably numb place of sitting with her eyes closed, even though that still pulled at her. It beckoned her to return to the safety of stationary life, to the calm comfort being frozen. She had awakened, but she was so very afraid.
“You can go back, but it only gets harder each time you do.” the formless words filled her mind.
“Have I done this before?”
“Many times.”
“Then why don’t I remember?” this was said aloud, her voice was cracked with dryness, the sound a broken whisper that felt jagged in her throat.
“Because remembering is too painful.”
She swallowed painfully, her dry mouth unable to bless her throat with liquid comfort. “Do you tell me this every time?”
The answer felt like a warm, comforting hug wrapped around her entire body, filling her with compassion. Yes, every time.
Tears reemerged. She didn’t want to go back, but was so scared to move forward.
The comforting hug pulled her forward, urging her. She took another step in this nothingness and didn’t fall.
She wept with fear and hope mingled into a bittersweet cocktail and stepped again.
Book Slut 