In The Distance

• Mary-anne Sadleir, Grade 9, Covenant College
• Short Story
• 2014

Excellence Award in the 'The Text Generation 2014' competition

In the Distance
The light blinks on the horizon, illuminating the long, flat plain and the haggard faces of my companions. Then it’s gone, and we stumble forward in the darkness. On its return, it stretches its long white fingers over us again, revealing the starless sky and my weary feet, before retreating once more. It has been like this for as long as I can remember, although that doesn't count for much. The light consumes me; it penetrates my mind, with the result that I have lost all sense. Hunger, thirst, space, time – all are foreign concepts. All I know is the flashing light before me and the long dark road behind.
The faces around me grow and change, replacing others. Some I seem to recognize, but most remain unknown. They all look as I must do – weary, distant but determined to reach the light. The light that draws so many forward - but to what gain? Why do so many succumb to it? What is the light? To me it seems a good thing, but others seem to despise it. Perhaps it is only a metaphor for something greater, perhaps it is reality. Is it a symbol, a sign, a dream or fate? I myself often ponder these things. Truly, I believe it signifies something different for each of us – something we have lost or something we hope to gain.
My feet stumble and I trip. Landing on my knees, my hands finger the cold soil. The light drains from my eyes, the darkness overwhelming. Everything but the soil falls from my thoughts and I kneel alone and quiet as I hear the steps of those around me continuing on. I am unsure of whether I am waking from a trance or falling into another. My eyes close, blocking out the light, welcoming the dark and the peace it brings. But as I sink further into the cool dark, a thread remains and keeps me grounded.
“But what about the light?” it asks. I push it away, but even as I do, I know that it’s a half-hearted attempt. Of course I must not rest yet, I have to continue. I rise slowly to my feet and open my eyes to the light, absorbing it once again. Strength and hope pours through me.
I had always believed the light was some kind of power, unnatural and entrancing - that all its followers had no choice but to stagger after it. Now I see it from a fresh perspective. The light, be what it may, is something that I personally choose to follow. I cannot fully explain why, except that it gives me a purpose and a strange kind of joy. As I lurch forward, joining the ranks of others like me, a smile steals onto my face. In that moment, I know that one day I will reach the light! Sooner or later, I shall complete my journey – my journey of metaphors.