A Lily for Eric

By
Everything was gone.

I was surrounded by darkness. The air seemed to shoot past me, but at the same time, there was no breeze. Every inch of my body was burning, but seemed cold at the same time.

What was this weird place?

“Hello?” I called into the black abyss, “Can anybody hear me?”

Nothing.

Not even a faint echo of my voice.

I was alone.

Nothing existed, but everything.

What happens when everything is nothing?

I could not remember anything.

Who was I?

How did I get here?

I did not want answers to my questions.

I wanted something.

Anything but the nothing.

Then, as if answering a silent prayer, something was in front of me.

It was a lily.

The simplest, purest lily I’d ever seen.

Lily.

That word hit me softly, but strongly.

Lily was not the nothing. Lily meant something to me. Why?

I reached out to touch its soft petals. I closed my eyes, relying on touch.. The feel surprised me. It was not as I’d remembered it. I had expected it to be lifeless. Limp. Thin.

The Lily was warm.

It moved.

I opened my eyes. I should have—no, would have gasped at what I saw.

But there was no breathing in the nothing.

The Lily was an angel. She looked at me with silver eyes. Her caramel hair fell in curls, caressing her face. Her cheeks held a pink tint, with light freckles across them.

She was not nothing.

This Lily was everything.

My hand was on her cheek, and she was looking up at me. Her nose could touch my chin.

This Lily held something pure; a strong innocence that came with a protective feeling over her. I had to get her out. I had to bring her away from the darkness.

“Eric” she whispered, the words seeming to be carried away by the breeze that was nothing.

I closed my eyes tight, willing the dark nothing to disappear.

I wrapped my arms around her protectively.

I would not let anything hurt this angel.

I opened my eyes to see my room.





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