“We wanted everything, now, and it’s part of the disease of modern culture…” – Ryan Hurtgen
Fiction. Based on a true enlightenment.
by Bry LeBerthon
This journal entry is inspired by true events. Some of the characters, names, businesses, incidents, and certain locations and events have been fictionalized for dramatic purposes. Any similarity to the name, character or history of any person is entirely coincidental and unintentional.
Trigger Warning: our program often motivates people to discuss their trauma. If you find yourself feeling overwhelmed, please, take a step back to address emotional flashbacks and trauma before continuing to push yourself. If you are experiencing a medical emergency, call 911 or the National Suicide Hotline at (1-800) 273-8255.
I like to think of my story as one of light.
It starts in an inky abyss, pitch black, so dark I am blinded by its depths. My mother lights the first shaky candle, and sets it in my hands.
She turns to leave, and I am on my own.
I spend my whole life searching for candles.
Their flames burn bright, a million colors, shades of blues and yellows and fiery reds,
and it is as though I am within the sun,
warm and bright and vivid all at once.
But I am still in the abyss.
I am surrounded by warmth, but I wish to feel for the cool breeze of the outside world.
I am bathed in light, but I long for the sun’s rays on my shoulders, casting me in shades of gold and white.
There is nothing I want to see more than moonlight.
And so I run.
Blindly and splendidly I sprint into the abyss, searching for its end, matches crushed beneath my heavy feet
I lose my breath, my head, my heart, and yet I run,
dizzy with dreams and hope for what life will be
knowing I’ll be resting in the end.
There may not be light at the edge of the abyss
there may not even be an edge
but I will make it
I’ll be happy in the end.