by Joshua Hoyt
Chapter 23:
Am I dead? Where am I?
Tom looked around the room in which he stood, only seeing white. The white walls seemed to go on forever, and Tom could not discern where they met the ceiling or the floor other than he thought he stood on the floor. The scent of roses touched his nose and he marveled at the absolute lack of pain in his body. He looked down at his hands and clothes. No blood or grime stained them. The room appeared to be completely empty, and as Tom walked forward, he saw his feet move but he couldn't tell if he had moved at all.
As he continued to move his feet a feeling of peace enveloped him like nothing he had ever felt before. He smiled and his heart filled with hope. The ground didn't feel hard or soft but seemed to just be there, and he walked without fear of falling through. His body felt comfortable, not too hot and not too cold. A warm breeze kissed his cheek as he walked, bringing an even greater feeling of peace and comfort to his soul. He whistled a tune and strolled along the emptiness. The tune came to him from memory he had forgotten long ago.
A man appeared off in the distance. His smile broadened as Tom neared the man. The man appeared brighter and whiter than the room he stood in. Recognition dawned and Tom quickened his pace. The man held open his arms to Tom and embraced him warmly. Anxiety crept into Tom's body as he thought about the friends and life he'd left behind. “What about my friends?” he asked.
The man looked down into Tom’s face. “They will continue,” he said.
Tom released the embrace and looked up into the man’s face. “But will they be well?”
A scene of sorrow emanated from the man. “Tom, we all influence those around us and affect the things that happen to one another. If you were to stay and not go back, it will affect your friends.”
“But what will happen to them?” Tom asked. His heart beat faster and he felt fear creeping into his peace.
The man paused for a moment. “A storm is beginning in your land. One that is bigger than has ever touched its surface before. Your friends will be in that storm. I cannot tell you how you affect that storm or what will happen to your friends in that storm.” He pulled from under his robes a glass rose and held it up for Tom to see. “To some the rose represents the ultimate sacrifice. It is a delicate flower and must be watched over if it is to show its true beauty.” He twirled the rose slowly. It became dark red and stood out against the white all around them. “The plant is nourished and pruned tirelessly to create the perfect bloom.” He stopped twirling the rose and the color faded. “The real question you need to be asking Tom is whether or not you have what it takes to be the rose?” He spoke softly.
Anxiety climaxed within Tom’s body. His mind raced and the peace that he'd felt vanished. He looked up at the man again. “I...I don’t want to hurt any more. I’m tired of hurting, I’m tired of losing loved ones. I’m tired.”
Tom slowly sank to his knees and the man placed his hand on his shoulder. “I know Tom, which is why it is you who must choose. It is given to you to make the choice of staying or going.”
A different kind of peace replaced the feeling of anxiety twisting in Tom's gut and he felt a renewal of strength come from deep inside him. He slowly raised up his head and looked into the man’s eyes. “I’m ready now.”
The man smiled, warmly raising Tom up from the ground. “Tom, remember that when we have lost all hope, and we can’t go on, those are the times we show our real worth. The road will be long and hard but I believe in you.”
The man passed his hand across Tom’s eyes and Tom closed his eyes.
