Faint

I journeyed to another world. A place no one else has ever been. It’s a locale that is virtually impossible for another living soul to enter—at least not without my permission, as if it has a KEEP OUT UNLESS YOU’RE SARAH JANE sign at its entrance. (An old-fashioned name, I know. Blame the folks.) You see, it is my soul, the depths of my being where all of my strengths and weaknesses reside, my hopes and desires. I didn’t plan on conducting this journey. It was subconscious, if you will.

One morning I stood at the bus stop on my way to school. That year I was a freshman in high school. Unlike most girls my age, I wasn’t concerned with boys or the latest fashions or being in the “it-girl” crowd. I was just me, a girl who loved to read, to lose herself in her imagination.

I was a kite, books my wind, lifting me higher and higher to an atmosphere vast and free. My love of books came from my father, though he was more of a scholarly reader while I was enamored with fantasy, from quixotic fables to retro sci-fi. Perhaps my interests had something to do with my experience, influenced my mind somehow, but I’ll never know.

It was hot that day at the bus stop. No, not hot, that would be an understatement. It was smoldering as if someone had put their oven on high and put me in it to bake for an hour. No, more like someone had opened the gates and sent me spiraling into the fiery pits of hell. Well, anyway, it was beyond hot . . . I was waiting as patiently as I could for the bus that, of course, was running behind schedule that day.

At the time, I was cursing the bus in my head, but I’m thankful now. If the bus were on time, I may not have ever gone on my journey.

Sweat formed pearls on my forehead that trailed from their point of origin to the base of my neck. The more I tried to wipe them away, the more pearl beads I managed to accumulate. That’s when it began. I wasn’t fully aware of what was happening. The memory is still shrouded in mist for me now, but I know one thing—for those few moments, whether they were mere seconds or the span of a lifetime, I was gone. Gone from the world as we know it and enclosed in my own mind.

It started with a dizzy sensation. I could feel the blood rushing from my head to my feet, as if my blood molecules were feeling the weight of gravity while the rest of my body remained numb to it. The rest of the journey I wasn’t fully aware of; I could say that I noted the black drape that fell across my eyes and the uselessness of my legs as my muscles gave out, however that would be inaccurate. I knew these things were happening, but at the same time I didn’t. A wire had been cut in my brain circuit. Instead of registering my body’s responses, a melody played repeatedly in my head; a melody that I couldn’t recite if I tried, for it was both continuous and transitory.

Then I entered my soul. I have no visuals for this place. I saw nothing, yet I was greeted by the song whose lyrics escape me. And I felt peace. Peace that could only be felt away from the world we inhabit. I don’t believe that there is no peace on earth, mind you. There is peace and beauty in many things: the sights and scents of fresh flower blossoms, the sunrise or sunset over the ocean horizon, or even closer to home, the smiles and laughter of young children who have yet to lose their sweet innocence. All of these things, pure and simple, are the epitome of peace, but truly they can be hard to come by and when you do experience these moments they can be fleeting since, often times, something interrupts them.

As I previously stated, I had no way of knowing how long I was trapped within myself. It could have been an infinitesimal amount of time or an eternity. Except for the song playing in my head, there were no sounds. I know now that my sense of hearing had shut down, just as my vision had. I was then deaf and blind to the world around my body left crumpled on the burning sidewalk.

Wondering how I broke free from the prison of my soul? I can’t tell you that. I don’t rightly know. I just woke up. The shade lifted from my eyes and my ears were unplugged and my brain’s circuit was reconnected. I awoke and suddenly I was the opening act of a circus. A crowd of kids were staring down at me. All of the faces, some I recognized, others that were brand new, were etched with concern. I, the outsider, was now in the midst of their circle.

None of this concerned me, though. I had gone where they couldn’t . . . unless I allowed them to. I have a firm belief that I can share my experience with someone, not merely through words as I am now, but through a bond, a bond that can showcase the forgotten melody of my soul, a bond so intimate that it can transcend time and defy possibility. After my journey, I changed. I began to strike up; conversations, share my interests. I hope to one day discover the sort of bond I described. Until then, and even after, I shall continue living as me, a hidden rhapsody.