I am an unpublished beginner writer working on a memoir style book detailing my journey through my marriage and divorce. Over the holiday season, I was inspired to write this pieced and would love to hear your feedback. 

                          They said it’s fun! It’s exciting! It’s a party! It’s the holiday of lights.

But she sees darkness everywhere. She is too young to speak, too young to be heard but she knows. A holiday of lights with dark arguments, cynicism, put downs and perfectionism is not light at all.

Despite her young age, she is smart and knows that she needs to join along in this charade or she will be the next target. So she sits pretty and smiles, uncomfortable in the dress that they choose for her and pretends that all is light.

But she knows, she knows how dark it really is and that all the bright lights are only a cover up for the deep darkness that is in their souls, a darkness that even a million lights will not lessen. A darkness that has taken over their lives; that directs their every action and does not allow their Spirit to soar. Though she has been raised by them and pretends to be like them, her Spirit is determined to soar and as young as she is she knows that she will find a way.

Though she must sit with them all now and pretend, her Spirit finds a hiding place, a dark closet under the stairwell, bereft of any lightbulb or window but full of inner light, of love and acceptance. Her Spirit stays hidden and safe, patient waiting for the time when it will be safe for her to soar and bring light, real light into her life.

Her spirit is patient, it waits until decades later she is preparing for the holiday of lights and she is speaking to her child, who is wearing an uncomfortable suit that she has chosen for him.

                                    It’s fun! It’s exciting! It’s a party! It’s the holiday of lights.

And then she takes one moment away from the mad preparations, looks in her child’s eyes and sees fear and bewilderment. She knows he overheard the yelling and crying that went on to the wee hours of the night. He knows the fear that is in this home.

Her child knows the darkness in the festively decorated room and is doing what she did so well as a young child and pretending because he know that he needs to. She sits beside her child and holds his hand, feels the Spirit that still resides inside him, that has not yet been taken away from him.

As her hand grasps his tightly, vague memories come back to her, memories of a time when she was too young to talk and be heard, yet knew the difference between light and dark.  Memories of the time she promised her spirit that one day, when it would be safe, she would soar and bring light into her life.

 She holds his hand and begins to walk away, her walk quickly turns to a run and then she is flying as she leaves the place where the darkness is so strong that  million lights can’t diminish it and finds a home for herself, her spirit and her child. A home where spirits are free to soar. 

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