Tales of Courage and Hope

57ceee7438c9bfd8e0dbb042641f382f

Tales of Victoria

Part 2

It’s a strange feeling when you first open your eyes from sleeping. The brain is not fully conscious that you are awake, and the dream state slowly releases it’s fingers from you, hanging on till the last possible moment till you are aware. So it was for Victoria. Still so very tired from crying, that she found she still had no desire to move. Her eyes gazed at her surroundings, in that foggy state, until she remembered where she was, and how she got there.

She forced herself to sit up, pressed her back against the wall, and pulled her knees up close to her chest. It was difficult to gather her thoughts, as the pain was still fresh, it’s wounds still visible upon her spirit. Too tired to cry now, and almost too tired to care. It was taking a lot of effort to keep the questions, which were on repeat, from starting again. Over analyzing the situation was not going to make it any better.

So she began to really take in her surroundings, a hallway with many doors, and no windows she could see. However, she was not in darkness. Light was coming from somewhere, and it wasn’t cold. She herself wore a dress fit for a lady in a royal court, except she noticed, she was barefoot, and she couldn’t help but smile a little.. Funny isn’t it, even in our most painful moments, how something so random and simple, can affect our situation. What a combination, a barefoot princess? How absolutely absurd, but that was who she was.

On the opposite wall, a painting caught her attention. She stood up to go investigate it, and had a familiar sense, she had been here before. As she admired the painting, she depicted, many people, men, women, even children, scattered about in some sort of activity, and in the middle of the artwork, was painted an open door, with a bright light, shining from the other side. A plaque had been placed above it, and the inscription stated, “The Hall of Transition”. Aha! No wonder it seemed so familiar. She, like so many others, had been here before, and she couldn’t help but add one more question to the ones she already had. “How long will I be here this time?”

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: