Reaching - Don't let go of my hand...

The child reached as deeply as she could into the well. Careful to not let go of Hope's hand. As the tears blurred her vision, she gasped for air as her breath escaped her.

'Reach damnit - REACH! He can't have those dreams, regrets, and painful memories'!

The Storm

As the child reached for her tears, Defeat sent up to the night, gusts of dread. With each cackle of sickening taunts, came terrifying bursts of thunder. Icy rain sliced into Hope's wings, as she maintained her hold on the child. Hope watched through her own tears, as the rain cut into the child, draining her inner strength, and feeding on her sadness. Soon crimson droplets were descending into the hands of Defeat.

Yet as the storm raged and battered Hope's wings and the child's spirit, the two became one. The challenge of the well could be won. Defeat who was still laughing, had not noticed, that ever so slightly, the storm was losing its strength. Hope lifted her shimmering hazel eyes to the heavens, and whispered - 'Thank you...'

The clouds, moving slow, began to reveal light under the darkness. Layers of ebony, charcoal, and onyx began to wither, revealing grey, periwinkle, and blush. The child breathed deeply, and spoke to herself quietly, 'Do this - you must. For if you do not, you can never truly forgive yourself for your past'. DO THIS NOW - with Hope by your side.

The child looking away from her fallen tears, caught Hope's hazel eyes, and saw that she remained faithful. Her wings, broken and tattered, had managed to weather the storm. Hope called to the child, 'Aura Luna has returned to guide you to your tears'. The child pursued her tears once more with Aura Luna's smile casting a prism of brilliant light into the deeper realms of the well.

                                                         

On the Other Side

On the "sane" part of the well - there seemed to be a more logical conversation at hand.

Or was it?

'I should see a shrink. After all, even with two antidepressants I feel most days as if I am clinging to reality by an unravelling thread. Heaven forbid, that I go off of the meds, even for one day. The headaches pound so loud as to wake the dead, and my grip on life becomes a constant battle with each hour that passes. My thoughts twist within themselves and I lose any control of my mind that I may have had. Time for counseling?'

I believe so..........