From Darkness Comes - Book 2 in The Dissonance Series

The Snow Moon

"In the midst of darkness, light persists."

– Mahatma Gandhi

I awake to darkness, like I always do. The endless black void of a star-filled galaxy greets me every morning. Even after three months, I haven't gotten used to it. The ship is equipped with virtual reality screens to cover the windows and simulate the sun rising, just like it would on Earth, but no screen can truly capture the beauty of the light as it crests above the land. No screen can mimic the feeling of being up to see dawn's first light or capture the smell of the cool earth as it wakes from its slumber. I do not take advantage of any of the Earth simulations. I have no use for them. Earth is no longer my home, and the sooner I accept that and get used to my new reality, the better. The sooner I can let go of my past, the sooner I can embrace my future and hopefully stop being tormented by the thoughts of those I left behind.

I still have nightmares, only they are different from before. The faceless girl running from me and laughing, is Aveline, her features clear as day. I still chase her, only instead of spiraling in circles, following her deeper into the cavernous mine, I'm close on her heels as we sprint through a field filled with cornstalks. Unable to find my way out, I'm forced to follow her every time. Dead stalks fall from above and float silently to the ground. Only once they are underfoot, do they awaken. They crunch beneath my shoes as I try to keep up with Aveline. The cornstalks are dying and the sound of the leaves crumpling under my feet is their last song. A sense rushes through me, a cold chill I can't shake. The seasons are changing. Leaves swirl briskly through the air and with it, a feeling of something horrible, an impending doom, and a voice, which whistles past me. It encircles my body and pushes me onward. I couldn't stop, if I tried.

Suddenly an opening appears in the cornstalks as if from nowhere. A road lies before me: a seemingly endless road that disappears into the horizon. I search for Aveline. I spot her standing in the middle of the pavement. Her eyes lock onto mine and then slowly drift down to the ground, to the carnage pooled around her like a puddle of death. At her feet, lie all the people that I have loved and lost: my parents, Kelly, Lex. I try to run to them but I'm stopped in my tracks by an invisible force. My sister slowly shakes her head back and forth, whispering, "you can't go back."

"Why?" I scream out desperately. "Take me instead," I plead.

Again she shakes her head. "Make a new path," she replies.

But I don't want to make a new path. I'm exhausted. Everything feels hopeless and more importantly: pointless. Why live without the ones I love? I drop to my knees and hang my head in my hands. Tears stain my cheeks.

That's usually when I wake up, no longer in a sweat like my previous nightmares, but still wet from the tears that streak down my face. I let the tears remain. I do not wipe them from my cheeks. My dreams feel more like reality than my actual reality and holding on to a part of it, even for a few moments, makes me feel like the images in my head are actually real. My dreams are the only time that I allow myself to cry. I can't indulge in that behavior when I'm awake and around the others. I have to keep moving forward. I have to stay focused, which means I have to stay busy.

Each day has been the same for the last several months. I rise and eat breakfast, alone in my room. I try not to be too demanding with what I need. Given my unique status, as both the only female able to procreate and the General's sister, I could ask for whatever I want. But I don't want to be that person. However, I also don't feel much like socializing with the other passengers, which is why I allow myself to request a few minor things, like breakfast being dropped off at my door every morning.

After I eat, I head to the gym for some exercise. I get there early, before the others, so that I can have the place to myself. I switch off the treadmill screen with the visual of running on a sandy beach, which automatically pops up when my feet hit the belt. Instead, I stare into the dark abyss. I hate it. I hate the darkness. I hate the sense of space going on endlessly into the unknown, but I force myself to stare at it every morning. It's my penance: a small amount of pain that I choose to make myself endure. It seems selfish to pretend I'm on that sandy beach, to try to make myself feel better, feel happy, feel normal, feel alive, when so many were left behind for dead.