Becoming Numb

I enter with a hesitant step, my heart pounding hard. Why did I come here? I ask myself again. I watch the tears flow down my mother’s cheeks as her sister takes her hand. I bow my head as they pass, feeling the breeze their long dresses create. Pink Floyd’s “Comfortably Numb” enters into my mind.

No one seems to notice me as I follow the procession, the middle of the room appearing as a narrow path unending. A slow waltz toward the unknown. I turn to see a gathering standing in a corner before a large frame. Tiny pictures are displayed, not visible from my far-off view. I see the faces turn to each other, eyes focused more inside than out. Lips move, but I can’t hear what they’re saying. My eyes begin to wander. Lilacs paint the dark room bright, adorning all empty spaces, though the only scent I smell is dust.

I step and pause as a bride might do at her ceremony, though slower and without longing. I know not what lies before me, though am in no hurry to find out. I have followed this path before. I close my eyes for just a moment and see myself as I was as a child, holding a basket of petals, dressed in innocent white. I can almost feel the hope in my young eyes. I can almost see the light.

Nearing the front of the room, I watch family and friends before me. My sister-in-law holds my brother tight before turning back my way. Holding my head steady, I slide a step further. Out of the corner of my eye, I glimpse the first pew. My husband sits hunched over, head in hands, shoulders slumped. I try to feel, but all feeling is gone.

With no one left before me, I take the last step forward. I first notice an eerie light that glows where no light should be. And then my eyes drop slowly as I peer upon myself. I hold my breath a moment before letting it out in waves. My eyes close like dungeons. My heart skips a beat. The dream is gone and with it I lie.