The Light at the End of the Tunnel
EMILY JANUSIC
Spiral after spiral, Lyra was dragged underneath the water, struggling to breathe in her own mind. She looked up, past the ripples of the water, and saw the person she loved the most staring right back, reaching out. A warm feeling overcame her as she was saved by their hand. The moment she tasted the air on her lips, she was shoved back into the water. Her eyes were wide, but she didn’t scream as they drowned her, suffocating her until she craved that last breath of freedom. Waiting for it to come, but it never did. Everything came crashing down, and Lyra was simply trapped in the prison of her own mind. The claustrophobic feeling would never disappear. There was no end to this cycle. It was all pointless–
A tear rolled down Lyra’s face, as she stared at her reflection, her brown eyes an empty void. The coldness of the tiles beneath her feet was a reminder to ground herself. The chill breeze was like a comforting hand through her dark hair. Taking a deep breath, slowly recovering from her panic attack, Lyra decided she needed air. She needed to be somewhere else. Anywhere else.
Lyra packed things into a backpack–little trinkets that had no sentimental value, her diary filled with scrambled thoughts, other items that she did not want to lose. She had already lost a piece of herself–that was more than enough.
She swung the front door open but was met with only an abyss. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up. Lyra tried to turn her head slowly, but a magical force pushed her through the door. Darkness swarmed around her, suffocating Lyra. She clawed and clawed at her throat in the hopes that she would finally be free of this torment before it swallowed her whole–
Gravel bit into her knees as Lyra’s hands were thrown out in front of her, catching her before she landed on the ground. Ahead of her stretched a road, the walls around the road were curved, creating a tunnel of never-ending darkness. The only light coming from the crescent moon and the few stars that littered the sky. The bushes littering the path provided colour. They were the most lifeless shade of green, as if they had never felt sunlight or been gifted the relief of water. Scrambling to her feet, Lyra spun her body around, trying to make sense of her surroundings but only finding a void of despair.
She held her head with both hands, shaking it vigorously. ‘This isn’t real. This is a dream.’
‘This is entirely real.’
Lyra’s entire body tensed at the sound of a new voice. She slowly turned around, her guard up, prepared for anything. A girl, who looked around Lyra’s age, with hair as golden as the sun stood a couple of feet away. There was a calmness to her. The girl seemed to hold herself with something akin to hope. Lyra moved backward slightly. She knew that hope only led to disappointment.
Lyra gripped the straps of her backpack. ‘Who are you?’
‘I’m Evangeline.’ She tilted her head to the side, watching Lyra, curiosity swirling in her eyes. ‘If you do want to leave this tunnel, you need to walk down the road and find the light.’
Lyra looked over her shoulder, only to see the dim tunnel ahead of her–the same lifeless bushes and dull gravel. The only light she could see was the moon–the tunnel led only to darkness.
She stared blankly at Evangeline. ‘Are you messing with me?’
‘Just follow the path.’
‘You cannot be s–’ the words died in her throat when Evangeline vanished into thin air.
Too exhausted to comprehend what had happened and too tired to pretend to care, she followed the road. This tunnel was bright compared to the darkness clinging to Lyra like a shadow.
The lifeless bushes seemed to mock Lyra as she continued down the path. It was an everlasting road of nothingness and yet, with every step Lyra took, a strange prickle danced up her spine. She swore someone was watching her. Maybe it was the girl from before, Lyra was not sure, but she could not find it within herself to care that someone might be looking at her or out for her. It might all just be another lie. Just another moment for someone to stab her in the back when all she wanted was to be loved.
Tilting her head back, the moon in the still-night sky illuminated the dull and boring path ahead of Lyra. Maybe the path truly was mocking her and merely a representation of her mind. Reminding her that a part of herself had died that night. That there was a hole in her heart. It didn’t ache as much as it used to, but it was still there. Some days it weighed her down more than other times. She had slowly begun to learn not to allow the hurt to swallow her whole. She remembered to breathe and reflect on what happened.
But she couldn’t do that anymore.
The weight was finally too much for her. She fell to her knees, a sob tearing through her throat. Lyra wished she could talk about what had happened without mentioning how much it truly hurt her. There had to be a way to speak of the pain without having to relive it over and over and yet, even thinking about what happened was sometimes too much to bear.
The only sound she could hear was her own heartbeat racing.
Maybe she was dying. Maybe that meant freedom, from all the pain and hurt. Maybe it was devouring her and there would be nothing left of her to feel. She would feel at peace but all of her was already gone. The only thought in the darkness was she wanted to go home. But her home was a person, and she was not allowed back there anymore.
The thought burned Lyra from the inside out. Even after everything that happened between them. Their big fight that ended up with Lyra sitting across from someone who was a stranger but also knew her better than she knew herself.
No matter how much she wanted to, she refused to return to a place where she was not wanted.
Wiping the tears from her cheeks, she felt like a ghost of herself as she got to her feet. Each step she took was a challenge. She left crystals in her wake, reflecting the moonlight onto the path behind her.
A small part of herself that wanted to feel that sense of comfort again, even if it was only for a moment. All Lyra needed was for her mind to be calm. It was as if she conjured it from her mind. Lyra raked her fingers up and down her arm, over the goosebumps. Ahead of her was a river and the girl from before.
‘You know, it’s rude to stare.’ Evangeline looked over her shoulder. ‘Do you want to join me?’
Lyra stood in place. Someone wanted her company. There could be a chance that it was not a ploy. It could be genuine. The only way she would find out was if Lyra allowed her protective walls to slowly fall, one by one. She made her way toward Evangeline, but stopped a foot or so away, where the grass around the river was the most vibrant green Lyra had ever seen. She felt like she was slowly blooming, seeing the colour return to the path ahead of her. Random clusters of crystals were perched on the edge of the river with light from the moon, now at its third quarter, reflecting off them and onto the water at the perfect angle, as though the light danced with the water. Lyra smiled to herself, happy to see something beautiful and bright.
‘Why are you here?’ Lyra asked.
‘I appear when you need me.’
That made Lyra step backward. She did not need anyone. She only needed to depend on herself. Through narrowed eyes, Lyra watched Evangeline’s face, trying to find any sign that she was a threat. What scared Lyra more than the possibility of feeling more pain was Evangeline allowing Lyra to look at her so intently, only waiting. Taking a deep breath, Lyra decided to be brave.
‘Would you like to continue down the road with me?’
Evangeline jumped to her feet, a bright grin on her face. ‘I would love to, but may I hold your backpack? It has weighed you down for long enough.’
Lyra felt sceptical but deep down, she knew it was fine, so she handed her backpack to Evangeline and the relief she felt was almost instant. They walked away from the river, following the path together. A light flickered within her. Something soft. Something warm. Something welcome.
Lyra admired the flowers slowly blooming on the bushes and sprouting from the ground–adding a range of colour to the dull road. More crystals grew through random cracks in the ground, casting more light, glimmering with the light of the moon, now at its Gibbous phase. Evangeline fell behind Lyra for a moment, enchanted by the pink crystals. Lyra kept her pace, following the path to somewhere that was full of light.
‘Lyra, look!’ She turned around to find Evangeline running over to her. ‘There is the most beautiful field of flowers. Do you want to see?’
Lyra peered at the light at the end of the tunnel and felt a tug urging her to continue, but she was curious about the field. She wanted to see the beauty of the flowers growing into something spectacular. ‘Let’s go.’
She smiled ear to ear as Evangeline linked her arm through hers and ran into the flower field. Before she knew it, they were both rolling. All Lyra could smell was absolute bliss and a sweetness she would never forget. The moonlight cast its light so brightly Lyra couldn’t see. She squeezed her eyes shut but the moment she opened them, she realised it was not the moon that had blinded her. At the edge of the flower field stood a tall door as bright as the sun but not nearly as blinding. Evangline offered a hand to her, inviting Lyra to hold onto her.
Lyra looked behind her, at the path she had taken, and admired the way the road was vibrantly illuminated. The darkness that followed her had only been betrayal that she carried, shadowing everything around her.
Being around Evangeline gave Lyra strength she thought she would never have again. She did not fully trust Evangeline. She had only known her for a moment but coming out of her comfort zone and allowing herself to let someone in, even only slightly, meant something to Lyra. It meant that she did not have to go through this alone. She was allowed to have help from someone who cared. Needing to be cared for did not mean she was broken, so Lyra smiled, grabbed Evangeline’s hand, and walked through the light.
The heat enveloped her, the sunlight kissing her skin as if she was someone special. Someone who was allowed to have good days. Someone who was allowed to move on, despite her past dragging her back to that night. She would not allow it to consume her anymore.
Lyra had come to realise that home was a person, and it was herself, so she was going to move forward, even if it was difficult. Even when some days might feel as though it was impossible. Lyra was going to persevere. Just like the moon. Going through phases of darkness did not mean that she was not going to be whole again.
It only took time.
Emily Janusic is a young writer from Sydney and an avid reader of numerous genres, mostly fantasy and dystopian, who loves to explore different worlds and characters in her writing. She hopes to publish multiple book series in the future, of whatever genre is calling to her at that point in time, but she is currently working on her debut spy-fiction novel.
