Hope

Darkness was falling all around. The sounds of screaming filled my ears, drowning out all other sounds. Why was I here? Why had I come to this place? Why did it hurt so much?

"I can give you hope!" he had said. "It'll be better this way."

It hadn't been better. Hadn't even been good. The image of absolute glee on his sadistic face as he pulled the blood-stained knife from my bleeding heart was still burned in my mind's eye. His grating laughter began to fill my already throbbing head, swelling into a horrible symphony of hate and despair.

I had had no hope. I had been living (if you could call it that) in a constant cycle of regret and loneliness. I was searching for hope in a world that seemed devoid of life itself. The backstabber had come promising me the very thing I was searching for. Hope. He'd lied. Now I was more alone, and more hopeless than I'd ever been before. Writhing in pain and crying tears of anguish, I cried into the darkness; searching for just a fleeting glimpse of hope. Maybe, just maybe, it would be enough to heal my broken and dying soul.

"Help!" I cried, weakly. I felt my soul draining away; fading into the darkness enclosing me.

"I'm here." whispered a warm, gentle voice. "I've got you."

I didn't know who it was, but I knew he was there to help. His touch was different from the one of the hateful demon of false hope. This savior's touch was one of real hope. Tangible and bright.

"Trust me." said the gentle man, lifting me in his arms.

Strength and power emanated from him. I felt myself resting my faith in him more and more. Somehow, his very light was healing my deepest scars. I felt a rush of something I hadn't ever felt, but knew what it was immediately. Like a ray of sunshine peeking through a bleak winter sky, it warmed my heart and soul.

It was hope.