Tears are rolling down my agony, frozen face. The colors are still flashing, rolling through different sequences and orders in my eyes…in my brain. The intensities of each color changes, like a fight is occurring between who will blind me first. Maybe it’s a conversation, or a parliamentary session. I don’t know, all I know is the pain is not stopping.
The tears, sweat, and urine have all dried to salt, chaffing my skin. The world is too warm, too real.
As the hours and hours of pain go on, my mind blanks. One minute is the same as another. One minute lasts 2 minutes, and then 1000 minutes, then half a minute. Time has no meaning here. It’s just pain. I can feel every bone, every muscle, and every drop of blood in my system. I can feel how each portion of my body connects to the clothes I am wearing, and how those clothes connect to the ground below me, and the air around me. I can feel it all.
And then, nothing.
The sounds are gone…well, not gone, but muted and without color. The colors have stopped their discussion and I slowly take in the world around me.
In front of me is the light bear. He is sitting on his butt, licking honey off of his paws. As if he senses my attention, he looks up and chuffs…continuing to lick honey off his paws.
The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
I am not sure what happened to all the fear I felt moments, or hours ago, but nothing remains. I just accept the bear and he seems to accept me.
I glance over and see my dad sitting upright, not moving. Primal fear is written all over his face. There are traces of blood here and there, but nothing major.
I glance back at the bear and he just chuffs again.
Working some moisture back into my lips and mouth, I whisper to my dad, “What’s going on?”
My dad, who didn’t seem to even recognize that his son was moving, looks over to me and bit of the fear seems to diminish.
“I am not sure.” He whispers, slowly dragging his body closer to mine.
“You have been catatonic for 2-3 hours. Every time I would move, the light bear would growl. He wouldn’t attack though. He is not a normal beast.”
With the last statement the bear grunts and seemly chuff-chuckles.
I look at the bear and my vision suddenly swims, and I can see thousands and thousands of bright white particles swirling and dancing around the bear. Among those particles is a thin, fragile thread of white connecting my chest to the bears chest.
The bear looks up from his paws and stares directly back at me.
“You and I are connected. You and I are two, but one. You and I will see the world.” The deep baritone voice echos in my head…and as if my body has a mind of its own, I hear my answer back, “Yes we will”. I didn’t voice my answer, it was a thought…a directed thought to the bear.