𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐉𝐮𝐕𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐉𝐚𝐦𝐛𝛐𝐫𝐞𝐞

04

Chapter 4: A Journey in Words

The woman sat across from me, a worn alphabet book opened between us. With infinite patience, she guided me through the familiar shapes of the letters, her voice gentle and encouraging as we embarked on our journey into the realm of words.

"Let's start with the basics, Ben," she said softly, her finger tracing the curves of the letter A. "Repeat after me: A, B, C."

I echoed her words, each letter a puzzle to be solved, a step closer to unlocking the mysteries of language. Together, we traversed the alphabet, my tongue stumbling over unfamiliar sounds as I struggled to grasp the rhythm of the words.

As we progressed, the woman's smile widened, her eyes bright with pride at each small victory. "You're doing great, Ben," she praised her words as a balm to soothe the frustrations of learning.

Encouraged by her unwavering support, I dared to venture further, delving into the world of reading and writing. With painstaking care, she guided me through the pages of a book, her fingers tracing the lines of text as I followed along, stumbling over words yet to be mastered.

But amidst the struggle, there was progress. Slowly but surely, the jumble of letters began to form coherent sentences, the once indecipherable script taking on meaning before my eyes.

And then, as if by magic, the words began to coalesce into something familiar, something deeply personal. "B...Ben...ja...min B...lake Car...ter," I whispered, the syllables rolling off my tongue with newfound clarity.

The woman's eyes widened in surprise, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "That's right, Ben," she said softly, her voice filled with warmth. "Benjamin Blake Carter."

At that moment, as the weight of my name settled over me like a mantle, I felt a connection, a sense of belonging that I had long yearned for. And with it came the realization that the woman who had been my guide and mentor all this time had a name of her own.

"Sara," she said, her voice gentle yet firm. "My name is Sara Ann Cooper." 

Sara rose from her seat at the table, determination etched across her features. With purposeful strides, she returned, balancing an array of coloring supplies in her arms. She placed them gently on the table before Benjamin and offered a small, reassuring smile.

"Hey, Benjamin," she began softly, her voice a gentle melody. "I thought we could try something a little different now. Sometimes, drawing or coloring can help us remember things we might have forgotten. Would you like to give it a try?"

She carefully laid out the paper and crayons before him, her eyes filled with hope and curiosity.

 "You don't have to say anything if you don't want to," she assured him, her tone warm and inviting. "Just draw whatever comes to mind. It might help us understand a little more about what happened to you." 

                                                                                              X            

My hand hovered uncertainly over the blank sheet of paper, the weight of the crayon unfamiliar in my grip. Slowly, I reached for the black crayon, its darkness contrasting sharply against the pristine whiteness before me. With a hesitant breath, I began to sketch, the lines emerging tentatively as I tried to capture the shadows of my memories.

In the center of the page, a figure took the form of a boy, his outline etched in jagged strokes that mirrored the turmoil within. He stood alone in a room engulfed by darkness, a void that seemed to stretch into eternity. There were no windows, no doors, just an oppressive emptiness that threatened to consume everything in its path.