Breath

Thyra blinks her eyes open. Light sparkles in rainbows around her. A far away tapping is coming from her left and she stiffly turns her head towards the sound. The motion vaguely hurts, but the light is so beautiful that the pain feels far away, like a distant memory, something she is trying to remember, but can’t. She ignores the pain and looks out the window. It appears that the beautiful rainbow light around her is coming from the other side of the glass. She slowly reaches towards it, imaging that there are arms reaching out to her from the other side of the window. She laughs at thought and watches in amazement as orbs of rainbows float in slow motion around her face and away towards the light. Why would someone be reaching out to me? She wonders. But the idea of someone reaching out, feels good, and she decides to indulge herself for a moment in the good feeling, and reaches out in return towards the imaginary arms, she can almost see them. The light makes her feel so… something… but she can’t quite put her finger on what. The feeling is warm and reminds her of honey, which reminds her of Poo Bear, which reminds her of being a child. She was always small for her age. She remembered spinning in the field behind their Montana house where a cottonwood was in the transitional early summer stage of letting go. She remembered being surrounded by the little white puffs of it, her child imagination turning the puffs into tiny pixies, pixies flying all around her, dancing with her. Thousands upon thousands of them. The light, coming through the window, felt like that, dancing with the pixies in a filed behind the house, wild, loved and free. Maybe the light on the other side of the window was the pixies, coming to lift her away. The imaginary pixie arms coming towards her were waving in loving welcome. Thrya pressed her palm to the window, which felt strangely cool, in a return welcome. She smiled, wishing there was no glass between her and her imaginary approaching pixie and suddenly the glass gave way into a confetti of rippling pink light and orbs. The pink light felt like water; warm, sweet, honey water. She laughed again and realized that she must still have her seatbelt on. She reached down to touch the release with her right hand and suddenly, she was flying. When she was a girl she had dreams of flying but they never felt this magic. The warm pink honey water was spinning and bubbling, creating a symphony of bliss inside her. Thyra felt herself rise up towards the window, which was above her head now, flying through it. Something was pulling on her, turning her away from the light and towards a sea of darkness below her, she didn’t want to look at the darkness. In high school, some classmates had left her and her little sister Catlin on the edge of a cliff at dusk, as a joke, saying they would come right back for them. They never did and Thrya and Catlin had ended up spending the night, huddled together in the dark. Her childlike pixie freedom stripped away from her that night. Even now, as an adult she still had dreams about falling from dark cliffs. She tried to remember why she and Katlin had been with that group of kids in the first place. The darkness made her feel cold and bad and like there was something she was supposed to do. Why couldn’t she remember? It annoyed her to look at the darkness. She always felt guilty for not having taken better care of Catlin, even though they were only two years apart. She felt her current predicament was an adequate analogy to her life. Aiming for the light, but ending up in the dark, bumbling around aimlessly. She had yelled at Anthony that morning, she had never done that before. His sun kissed face falling in defeat. She knew she needed to apologize, she would do it as soon as she got home, she thought. Something was nagging at her, something in her told her she needed to see what was there, behind the darkness. But it was so heavy, so dark. So instead, she shifted her body, turning it back towards the honey light, which felt warm and good. Her mother used to tell her she was careless and didn’t look at things she needed to look at, always running towards the things that felt good. Wasn’t that what you were supposed to do? Run towards the good? ‘But Thrya’, her mother had said, ‘when you only run towards the good you forget some very crucial and important things, like doing your taxes.’ She didn’t want to think about taxes now. Just honey. Endless, breath taking honey. The darkness pulled. She could see the outline of a car, her car, in the blackness. What was her car doing there? She wondered. And where was ‘there’ anyway? A hand tugged on her hand. Surprised, she turned away from the black and into the beaming face of a creature with long flowing hair, hair that splayed out around her in the honey light. Were they in the water? They couldn’t be in the water, spring in Minnesota wouldn’t feel so good and warm. But if they weren’t in the water, where were they? The creature smiled and pulled her hand again. Up, into the beautiful light. Why was her car in the darkness? Had she been in the car? The honey light felt so good. Thrya closed her eyes, soaking in the warmth of it. When she opened them, she, and the creature holding her hand, were surrounded by other creatures. Beautiful, strong, white, flowing, fluffy creatures. Their movements made the honey light-water rainbow out with the slightest of moves. They were beautiful. They looked like they were dancing. Gigantic cottonwood puffs. Pixies. She reached for one closest to her, pulling it into her body. Why did cottonwoods let go? What were they letting go of? What did she need to let go? She always had the habit of holding on to everything, she thought. Every grudge, every time she’d been wronged. Thats why she had yelled at Anthony. She felt ashamed. She looked back down into the darkness, that was defiantly her car. The window was broken, smashed in. The car looked like it was floating. The tug on her hand came again, pulling her deeper into the honey light. Thyra let go, pulling her hand back towards the car. Why was her car floating? Because she had driven it there. The gigantic puffballs around her started pushing in, closer and closer. Their bodies started to hurt her body. She had driven into the river. They were going to smother her. She couldn’t breath. They pushed in tighter and closer. She had wanted to die. She was going to suffocate. Their beautiful fluffy cotton and seeds were all around her, in her mouth and eyes. She was going to die in their white honey light. She struggled to get free, back to her car. She fought harder and harder and the harder she fought the more they pushed in. Her lungs were full of them, she couldn't breath. The honey light started to fade. She was going to pass out. Her eyes closed and her head burst out of the water, instincts making her gasp and cough. Someone was holding her hand. A blinding light shone down onto the river. I need to apologize to Anthony, she thought.