By Amanda Siggins ’18
When I fell asleep, I drowned in dreams. I was no longer in my room laying on my bed, but standing on an empty stage in the middle of vast nothingness. Shards of memories fell around me, like broken glass, some gracefully falling at the pace of a feather, others heavy as rocks, plummeting past me with times passed. Some showed moments of my life, happy, angry, sad, others reflected a younger me. A shard glinted with an old light, it came from her eyes. A girl was there, staring back at me with a hazy smile, as if it had faded through the years. Brown hair that curled around her, bouncing every time that bubbly laughter sprang up. And green, green eyes that reminded me of the woods when the light dappled those leaves. Yes, that was the light. She was eternal, forever youthful in my mind. When I reached out for the sharp fragment of remembrance, it cut me, and it stung. The shard slipped below, gone beneath the stage, and I woke up. I woke up, but I still felt the sting of the past.
Into the Jungle 