Sad Eyes

The obscure figure in front of me is becoming more, and more visual as I wake from an unknowing slumber bound tightly to a wooden chair. The figure seems to be of a girl, a girl that looks like she is looking straight at me. The eyes she is viewing me with are very unsightly. The color they are is obsidian Black. What she wears is raggedy. The girl carries with her obscurity of emotion, and life. Her dismal eyes are the saddest I have ever seen. Her eyes seem to be tearing, the tears coming from her eyes look like black-tar oozing from her eyes. I panic
as she kept crying some black liquid. I yell “This cannot be happening!” she continues to cry. Thinking to myself constantly “why me, why me, why me, why me, why me!” I hysterically
yell “Why are you doing this to me!” All she is doing is continually crying unsightly fluid that looks like tar from her cold lifeless eyes. I plea for help from god to take me away from this unusual torture. I mumble prayers in a distressed tone. I have no idea what she wants me to do. I
close my eyes in retreat from the situation. I hear nothing as I consult myself in the sanctuary that is my mind. Opening my eyes I take immediate notice that the rooms floor is filling with the tar- like liquid. Alarmed of what is going on, I struggle to get free. Mind empty of what to do, I yell at the girl constantly, in attempt for a response. I continue to wrestle the bonds for freedom. The liquid is now up to my ankles, and is not stopping. Rattling the chair in attempt to be free, I fall over. My face now is half way down the middle in the tar-like fluid. Giving up, I think to myself I am going to die. Drowned in a murky pool of god knows what. I turn myself face upward, as I see a blank ceiling I think “what is going on!?!” I miss my family, my beautiful wife, and my precious children. I feel the liquid go up nearing my peripheral, closing my eyes tightly, taking my last breath before the pool filled up pass my face. Manically I take a loud shriek of frustration. My mind in that moment floods with memories, while the liquid flows where air once was in my lungs. In those last minutes I struggle for air inhaling Black, I live memories of my past, feelings I experienced. Affection I felt for my wife, the bliss of play with my children, even my own precious memories of childhood, sweet comforts of being “home”, no care but my own solace. Soon I see Darkness. Black is all I see now.