Walking through my college, I stop to admire the beauty of a students art piece, standing on the grass, a silhouette of a weeping woman made of metallic strips. This lovely piece awestruck me and my mouth fell open. I could feel the weight on my shoulders. Walking to the front of the building, I could feel a presence behind me. Who?
As I prepared to make a run for it, a man grabs me. He wraps his arms around my body, picking me off the ground and towards the road. I struggle like a fish out of water. Screaming my head off, nobody can hear. Nobody can see me. As if my strength left me, I collapse into darkness with only the afterimage of something like a lid pushing me further into darkness.
I scream for dear life. I'm scared. I want to get out. I want out. I don't want to be in the dark. In the dark, shadows and nothingness combine, leaving no evidence that one is even there. As if the existence of that person is gone. A part of the dark.
The darkness grew more real and sensations of rope pricked at my wrists, as if it were real. Kicking around, there were no walls. There was nothing, I couldn't even feel where I laid, as if floating.
Suddenly, like a switch, I felt it; the ground, cold and hard. And light flooded my eyes. Where was I . Looking into the light hurts so I look away, back into the darkness. Its funny that when faced with the light I would rather look to the dark for comfort, considering the terror I feel.
"Everything that we see is a shadow cast by that which we do not see."
