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Three

Death is easy, living is harder

F ire flows through me, pulling me from the abyss. Agony soon follows until I’m screaming, my mind and body breaking apart before the sensation disappears as soon as it comes, and I fall back into that waiting darkness.

I float there, warm and happy.

But the tugging comes again, a sharp pain ensuing until I can almost feel my body, but the darkness swallows it once again.

Voices surround me in the murky gloom, calling to me.

Begging me.

Pleading.

The pain in their voices brings tears to my eyes. They sound so hopeless, so lost and distraught, I want to hold them.

But then they are gone too.

There is nothing.

No one.

Just the pitch-black.

“It’s not your time yet, kid, they need you.”

I push the voice away, wanting to stay in the comfort of the dark, but it comes again, louder, nagging, and familiar. It sends a pang of pain through me for some reason. The words flow through me with aching familiarity and loss.

“Did you know butterflies are strong? They have beauty and are covered in marks from life, but they still keep flying.”

I turn away, and another voice comes. “Little queen, fight.”

No! Pain resurfaces at that voice, so much pain. I’m tired of the pain… I’m tired .

“You can do it, pain is temporary. Fucking fight!” comes the roar. “Fight, kid!”

Fight…

But how can I fight what I can’t see?

I am swallowed once again.

“She’s still here! She’s fighting it!” comes a frantic voice.

“Come on, soulmate! Don’t you dare fucking leave me!” demands a deep tone.

“Angel! Please!”

Pain registers as hands press against me, making me bow and scream. “That’s it, baby girl. Fight for us, we are right here.”

“Come on, babe! Please.” Their voices are choked and frantic.

“ Mi Alma , you can do this. Do not fucking die on me!”

But the darkness is back again. It promises peace, and as hard as I fight to stay, knowing those voices and the hearts they belong to…it drags me back, kicking and screaming.

I’m warm.

Really warm.

It starts slowly, the floating blackness heating up until it becomes unbearable. Noises and words filter through, but they make no sense, and then the pain comes.

Flames.

The dancing flames… Ivar?

No, no, Ivar is dead.

Am I dead?

Why does it hurt?

Why am I so hot?

“Fuck! She’s going to get an infection!” comes a snarl. “Pip, pass me—”

I bury my head again, whimpering at the flames. Please, no more .

A soothing, guttural voice wraps around me like an embrace. The lyrics flowing through me are familiar, reminding me of dark cells, but that can’t be a happy memory, can it?

“Little queen, you can find happiness anywhere if you remember to look,” comes a whisper before the lyrics start up again.

Vas?

It’s a song about a woman and her lover, and the fight they endure to be together, but at the end, she dies… It’s sad.

“It is, but death isn’t the end. The only true end is if you give up fighting.

You are not a coward, nor are you weak, kid, so don’t start to be now.

Pain awaits you back there, so much pain.

But you can handle it. Only you, Tazanna.

They need you, and we will be here waiting when it is finally your time. ”

I love you.

I don’t know if I scream it or whisper it, but I need that person to know. It’s a gut feeling.

“I love you too, kid.” He laughs, the sound covering me like a blanket and reminding me of home, like a father… Major? Can it be? “But they love you too, so go. Your fight isn’t over.”

I close my eyes, only to find more blackness, and focus past that voice to the pain circling and waiting to be let back in. With a cry, I throw open that door to the hurt that awaits there.

He is right.

My fight isn’t over.

Agony surges through me, and my eyes snap open with a scream.