The Light
It felt warm all around. Anya felt like she was floating on air. There was a soft buzz coming from somewhere.
She felt alive and free finally. After a long time. The heaviness in her chest was gone.
The sink hole had been deep. It had started with a feeling of listlessness one morning. Try as she might, she had been unable to rouse herself from bed to take a shower. Even mundane chores, like combing her hair and eating food, felt like a huge task.
The therapy had helped. Somewhat. There were good days and bad days, just as the therapist had predicted. Some days she felt like listening to music, on others she preferred silence.
Family and friends rallied around, trying to cheer her up. But it was a one-sided road trip as far as she was concerned.
Her Dad had spoken to her endlessly. About his struggles, his experience in the earlier years. Reminding her of all the good times they had shared when she was a child.
At 17, she felt old. Her life had ended when she had failed her entrance. Her career was over before it had even started.
It had been easy to grab the sleeping pills from the medicine cabinet last night to end it all. No pain lurked nearby now.
A light seemed to be coming closer in the hazy mist. She was drawn to its emanating warmth.
Live, Fight...the words echoed all around.
A hand slipped into hers from the mist and her eyes opened with a jolt at the hospital.
"It's okay, sweetheart. You are in safe hands, Anya. Remember, I love you and will never let you go. Live, Fight. I am right here by your side."
Anya smiled feebly at her Dad.
Her Hero without the Cape!
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