The Void

I sit on the rough stone, tracing doodles I can’t even see.

There’s really not much else to do when you're falling through a void, a slab of stone the only thing keeping you stable. 

Of course, no one talks about the fact that the rock is falling. We all pretend it’s still, only murmuring the truth in hushed whispers when we think there’s no one around to hear. 

I only know there’s light coming from somewhere because it’s not totally pitch black. I’ve always been able to see my family, friends, and not-so-friends in this darkness. Sometimes I sit here, near the hedge of the stone, so I don’t have to see them. 

There’s no real privacy on this rock of ours. Everyone is crowded onto it, barely room to move or breathe. Of course, movement is discouraged anyway. 

“Learn to be still,” the elders teach. “Or risk falling off the edge.”

The edge. I’m only a few feet away from it, farther than most others would dare. I’m sure I’ll get an earful when someone finally notices. 

But for now, I sit, doodle imaginary things, and pretend I’m not forced into this stillness because of fear. I’m still because I want to be. 

After a few minutes, bored of my doodles, I lay back on the slab of stone. Above me there’s only endless darkness. If I couldn’t feel the brush of wind as we plummet further into the void, I wouldn’t know we were even falling. 

With nothing else to do, I close my eyes and let sleep take me. 

The void makes it easy to fall–

Something hits me, and I’m sliding, flailing, scrambling to hold onto the edge of stone–

I fall. 

I’m tumbling through the void, anchor-less. My stomach heaves and I’m sure I’m going to retch. 

“Mama!” I scream, but my words are lost in the ceaseless rush of wind as I fall, and fall, and fall, and–

Nothing is happening. 

Well, I’m falling, obviously, but that’s nothing new. 

I wrestle my legs underneath myself and try to find some sort of sitting position. It takes a few tries, but I manage it. 

Sitting criss cross apple sauce, I put a hand over my heart. It’s pounding faster and harder than I’ve ever felt. I have to fight to push down panic. 

I wipe tears from my face and take a look around. 

The slab floats far behind me now. I can see it, and a crowd of people near–but not too near–the edge, all facing me. They’re too far away to make out any faces. 

The rest of the view is the same, but different. It’s still the void, but I’ve never seen it from off the rock before. 

I tilt experimentally to the side, and suddenly I’m upside down. 

It’s weird, seeing nothing below me. There is no slab of stone to touch, nothing to cling to, but maybe … 

I right myself, and make a wobbly, messy leap forward. Again, I’m spinning through darkness, tethered to nothing, but this time it’s … fun? 

Laughter escapes me as I try to stop spinning. I slap my hands over my mouth. 

When was the last time I laughed? 

I … honestly can’t remember. 

I try some more crazy, wild movements. Things I never would’ve dared even imagining on the rock. I spin, I float, I cartwheel, I swim, I fly. 

Tears spring to my eyes again. Everything is possible. Everything I never realized I wanted. Needed. And for the first time, nothing is stopping me.

I look back to the rock, hurtling through darkness, same as me. A woman kneels, her arms outstretched as if she could reach out and take hold of me. 

“It’s ok, mom!” I yell. “I’m fine!” 

The wind snatches my words away before I can even hear them myself. 

A heavy weight fills my heart. I’m so free, but also alone. And they don’t understand. How could they? They’ve never tumbled through the air, free and fearless. 

I close my eyes against any more tears. I can’t bring them with me into the void. But maybe if they watch me, if they see I’m ok, maybe one day someone will be brave enough to join me. 

Let them watch. Let them wonder.

I open my eyes, a smile stretching my cheeks. Until then, I’m going to fly. 

I launch myself forward into the void.