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“My Child?”

I tried to open my eyes but a soft hand that felt of the breeze closed them again.

“My Child?” the voice asked again. “Why have you come back, My Child?”

“I didn’t come back,” I said, but then, maybe I had. But how could I come back to a place if I don’t know where it’s at?

“Well, you have because you are here now. What troubles you so, My Child?”

“I don’t understand,”

“It is hard to understand, but it will come.”

“What will come? Who are you? And where am I?”

“You need to figure that out yourself,” he/ she/ it paused to let me speak.

“I thought you said you were me, so why can’t you tell me, because if you know, that means I know, so you should tell me so I can remember.” I hope that made sense to him, because it made no sense what so ever to me.

“You do know, but I can not remind you of it, for it are something you have forgotten, and it is something only you can remember. It is not I who can remind you of it.”

“Then what can you do?” I snapped. I tried to open my eyes, but as soon as I did cold clothed me in darkness and the being was gone.

“Hello?” I called. My voice did not echo around me, it did not travel to my ears, it made no sound.



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