3 Days

It was night although far on the horizon a glow, signaling the start or end of another day, seemed partially hidden by fog. The sky lacked a moon, or even stars? He was sitting on the ground but felt neither its roughness nor cold. Standing, glorious as it was without pain, gave him no sense of firmness. It was as if the ground, even the night around him, lacked substance. His eyes sought some feature to focus on. His toes, wiggling, sought to distinguish between grass, or rock or sand with no success.

Finally, a sound like a low murmur heard through a wall. It was voices but he could not determine their source or number. Craning his head first one direction, then another did not change their volume or tenor. Like his eyes seeking something to see, his ears strained to catch a discernible sound.

Another sound, like the faint rustling of leaves in the softest of breezes came from behind him. A sigh made without breath. He felt no wind, no cool change in the air but turned, hoping.

No longer facing the horizon, he saw, campfires? In the distance the faint glows did not flicker nor flare. Steady points of unmoving lights seemed to stretch into the sky.

Was he in a valley? Looking back at the glow on the horizon, it did not offer any clue as to the shape of the land between it and his position.

The voice, when it came, was a whisper that sounded as if it were spoken directly into his ear. His quick turn towards the voice upset his footing and he fell over but did not fall down.

"You glow," it said.

It was the voice of his mother yet; it was of the same spirit as his Father. That was not possible for he knew his Father's voice and this was not it.

"You're brighter than the others though."

"What others?" he asked.

"The others that glow." It was said so matter-of-factly that any question he may have had died before getting a chance to be spoken. He looked again at what he thought were campfires and realized they had shape and they were not as distant as he first thought.

"Why?" he asked.

"Don't you know?"

He looked down at his hands. There was no pain, no bleeding, but a definite brightness that varied only slightly around the wounds. His feet showed the same variations. He did glow, but it did not add any illumination to the surrounding ground.

"I have my Father with me," he proclaimed.

"No, you are alone."

"He is with me always, even as you are now."

"He is not, nor am I."

He knew the second the other spoke that it was the truth. His Father was not here. He could not feel the comforting presence, nor hear the whisper of his approval. Even his eyes still sought focus onto the other with no success. And once again he felt the despair he felt on the cross. The pain had become his companion, his foundation. In the absence of his Father, he held onto the only thing he felt, his pain. And now, with it gone, the loss of his Father came rushing back to him.

"Why are you doing that?" the other asked.

The pain of the loss grew. He felt it in his chest and squeezed his arms together in a tight embrace.

"If you continue you will join the others."

He did not want to listen, the pain spread and he fell to the ground.

"Was that him?" asked a new voice in the distance.

"No. See. The glow is fading already."

The pain quieted the voices. The pain was familiar. He could feel the spikes again in his hands and feet. The shouts of the crowd boiled in his ears and he could feel the warmth of the blood on his face. The pain was like strength, it flowed back into the darkness.

A sharp scream turned his head, pain momentarily forgotten.

"NO, NO, it's mine, MINE!"

A figure came running from the direction of the glowing horizon. It did not block the view of the horizon so he is not sure why he knew where it was coming from, but the outline of the figure was running very fast.

"MINE I tell YOU, MINE!" it shouted.

Like the voice that had been talking before, he knew this voice. Again, it was like the spirit of his Father but not his Father. He wanted to reach out to the figure as it ran closer. His pain forgotten, he could see and hear the pain coming from the shouts.

"NO ONE ELSE, MINE, LEAVE ME ALONE!"

He stood and moved towards the figure.

"No, don't do that!" yelled the first voice he heard.

The figure slammed into him, knocking both of them down. He, he was sure now it was a man, was freezing. Every touch seemed to drain heat from his body.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING? TRYING TO TAKE IT AWAY? IT'S MINE, LEAVE ME ALONE, MINE!!"

He was kicked and struck and the man jumped up and resumed running.

"FOREVER MINE, NO ONE CAN TAKE IT, MINE!"

The figure quickly was lost in the darkness but he saw others that were glowing move away from the direction of the shouts.

"What were you trying to do?"

"He was in pain."

"So were you."

His pain. Forgotten for the moment had fled again. This time he knew if he wanted he could bring it back but shook his head. Why seek out pain? Why take on pain when you did not need to?

"Because it was yours," said the other. "You're glowing again."

He looked at his hands and feet and saw that the blood and spikes were gone, the glow had returned.

"But he..."

"Could not have been helped. He wanted his pain, he would not have given it up now. He can see and feel and hold it like a treasure of immense wealth. If he were to give it up, he would cease and he will not."

"Do you know him?"

"No, but there are many like him. Soon you will see and hear them often."

"How do you know?"

"I've been here awhile."

"What is your name," he asked.

"Name?"

"Yes, your name?"

"I had a name. It was..."

"Asrith. Your name is Asrith."

"How do you know my name when I can not remember it?"

"I am," he replied. And the glow grew.