"Hope Deserted"

A Short Story

I couldn’t remember if I’d ever felt so alone. What was the difference between two instances where one has been alone? One instance, you could be all by yourself with an apathetic feeling toward the fact; another, you could be in a place filled to the brim with people, and yet, feel completely alone. Why? Well, regardless, I was alone in both senses of the word. Completely alone.

I was on my knees for only a short moment. I stood and began walking. Wandering, more specifically. Where was I? A desert. Void of life as my body would soon be. The sand was a light shade of yellow. The sky, just as empty, was not the typical blue, but rather, it was white. There were no clouds, no birds. Just a bright, empty whiteness that my eyes could hardly see even when strained. There was no hope in the heavens; there was no hope on earth, even, as my eyes and thoughts came back to it. And I was in hell. The sun, whose location I assumed was directly above me, shone on the desert sands and me without mercy. I, myself, was but a grain of sand, burning among the rest. Bearing the pain, I walked. Wandered, endlessly. Aimlessly.

Everything was so bright and burning, but it was all dark. My perception was hazy as I looked around; my hands, my legs and feet moving beneath me, and the rolling sands of the desert floor. Beyond all of this, I could see perfectly; the distant mountains, hope, and home.

All I could think of was home and how my dissipating hope was slowing me from reaching such a destination. But it wasn’t home I was wandering toward. I was looking for something, and, after long thoughts of a bed to sleep in, I understood what I was looking for. I wondered why she left my side and where she could be in the whole of this vast nothingness. Would I ever find her? I didn’t know which direction to go; it would be a miracle if I found her.

Instinct told me to run to the mountains where, if I didn’t find her, I could recoup in order to return to the desert in search of her again. And who knew, maybe I would happen across her on the way. My heart told me to turn my back to the mountains and search every inch of these damned dunes. I would die in search of my love. With these thoughts of finding her came hope revived. No one could be this lonely and wish to live. I survived through hope alone. With this hope of not being alone, I continued.

I turned my back to the mountains and walked on. Soon I was able to look back and no longer see the mountains. Now I was lost and without a sense of direction. For all I knew, I was walking in circles. But I refused to give up. I refused to give up hope.

The desert moved slowly as I walked through it. The crawling dunes provided short, hot breezes as well as rare, hotter, gusts of wind. I must have become crazy, because after going on and on for so long I started to look for traces of her. Perhaps I would see her hair band or, maybe, a lost shoe. I glanced back to see if there were any footprints in the sand, but all were my own. Even my footprints faded in the shifting of the dunes; especially, though, when the dunes halted altogether at the edge of flat, cracked, dry ground. I managed to exit one form of desolation into another. Out of the frying pan and into the fire. The desert—this one in particular—was Satan’s sand box. If there was a hell, I believed I had found it.

I stared off into the flat expanse that ended in a broad haze. Everything was hazy now. I fell to my knees, overwhelmed. My feet were beyond burned and my skin, lips, mouth, eyes, and lungs were all dry. I closed my eyes to a burning sensation and then opened them again to a worse burning. I quickly shut them again. They were better off closed; they continued to burn, but not as badly as when I had reopened them. They began to water from the pain. I wasn’t sure when the watering turned into the welling of tears; but shortly, tears began to drip from my eyes as I clenched them shut. My cheeks dried almost as soon as they had been wet. With hope surely lost somewhere back in the dunes with my sanity, I resolved that I would die here on my knees in the middle of nowhere, alone.

What am I looking for again?

It was strange feeling everything at once: alone in every sense, in pain in every sense. What motivation could there possibly be?

Her.

No. No, I wouldn’t die here. I pulled up one leg and pushed myself to my feet. I stood shaking and almost fell back to the ground. I opened my eyes. There was no burning. Everything was still hazy, but I saw a figure in the distance. Through the visible heat, I saw what appeared to be a black-hooded man walking toward me. Was I hallucinating? As the figure closed the distance between us, I realized it was her. I tried to walk toward her, but I was still on the verge of collapse. Her brown hair hung down and touched the shoulders of her strapless, black dress. I could see her clearly; everything else was shrouded in the same haze. I could see her and nothing else. She stopped three feet away from me. Her dress was torn in multiple places and her lips were cracked. I could barely see the blue of her eyes within the bloodshot whites. She looked dreadful. She looked beautiful.

I reached out to her and she stepped back. Her face seemed emotionless, but I felt something beyond that. I’m sure my face showed confusion. I stepped forward, still shaking. She stepped forward. I was relieved.

“I found you,” I whispered.

“But I lost you,” she said.

“I’m sorry. I’ve been searching everywhere.” I shook.

“You left me. I was alone.”

“I never intended to. I meant to always be there.” I was crying.

“You’re intentions were always the issue, darling.” She was crying. “I love you,” she said.

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry.” She stepped toward me and wrapped her arms around me with her head against my chest. I held her for what felt like forever. And it would be forever before I let go. She let go. When she did, she took ahold of my hand and held it against her cheek. Her face was warm. I curled my fingers and brushed my nails lightly over her smooth skin. I could even feel the warmth of her face through the air around it. I thought it was the sun, but it was her. She burst into fire. My hand flinched away from the extreme heat. She looked at me with longing eyes as the flames engulfed her form. Her dress began dripping black to the ground. She grew ever hotter and ever brighter. I could no longer bear to look at her through the light. I felt my face contort into the shape of true fear. And it was over. She was gone. I dropped to my knees yet again. The only thing left of her was the pool of her dress. It was a pool of despair and I wanted to dive in. I fell to my hands and water leaked from my mouth. I rolled onto my back next to the pool of blackness and my saliva. My eyes refused to blink as I stared into the nothingness of the sky. And as I stared at God, I reached my hand into the air as if he would lend me a hand and pull me to my feet. My hand fell to my chest and I closed my eyes.

Serenity flowed through my veins and solace spilled from my eyes. These things disappeared when I opened them. Respectfully, agony and anguish replaced them. The sun was swapped by the moon and the heat was exchanged with cold. The black pool that served as the only proof of my love’s existence remained no longer. All that was left was the desert.

I sat on the cracked floor and pulled my knees to my chest. I was shivering. It was so cold I could see my breath, a reminder that I was still alive. But for what? I couldn’t answer my own question. There is no answer. There is no answer. Shivering turned to shaking. Why? My heart screamed in silence. I shook horribly. Why?! I stopped breathing and then screamed. My lungs burned as they exhaled my pain. Pain became a chain reaction of every action I performed. I broke from embracing myself and writhed in complete agony.

“Why?!” I roared. “God… why?” I screamed in a whisper. I considered screaming obscenities at the empty sky questioning its motives. Useless. I was alone and there was only me.

What could I do? What point would there be in… anything? Not only was I alone in many senses, I was lost. Deserted by hope. I was borderline insane. Deserted by logic.

Logic? No… this? But it… This is a dream? Why was I in a desert? How had I gotten here?

My love. Oh my God. My love was alive. I would awake from this nightmare and she would be asleep by my side. Thank you, God. Thank you.

I stood to my feet against the cold and against the still dry air within and without my lungs. I was relieved, and the desert came to an end.

Lying on my side, I awoke to true sunlight with tears slipping down my face. I had that feeling of emptiness in my gut. Why? Why, God?  I looked at my alarm clock. 5:27. There was no point in going back to sleep with only three minutes remaining. I sat up. Before standing and getting ready for work, I waited, reminiscing in empty thoughts. Apathetic. I stood to embrace the long day ahead.

By MFW III