This place is cold. My fingers are numb and the air burns my throat. I do not know where I am. Darkness overtakes this place. I cannot even see my own figure.
I do not know why I am here. Or how I came to be here. Vaguely, I remember a sound. A mournful sound, but of what, I do not know.
I walk, but I cannot feel my feet. It is strange, but I do not feel like I am going in any direction. And oddly, I am not frightened.
Dimly, I see a light in the distance. What it is, I do not know. But steadily the light becomes brighter, until I must shield my eyes from the brightness of it. And once the pain in my eyes lessens, I open them to the figure before me.
A man, tall and shrouded in light. A crown of thorns rests upon his brow, and blood runs freely from the holes in his hands.
And suddenly, I know who this is and where I am. And my life comes back to me.
Laughter reaches my ears, and smiles light my eyes fleetingly. Sorrow aches in my heart, and past tears chill my bones. And I remember the sound of my own heart stopping.
Now Christ is before me, carried in light, and all I can think about is how I have wronged him. Of how many times I spit upon his face and told him to leave me be. Of all the times I stabbed him in the back.
Tears are running down my face: hot and burning. And when he reaches his hand towards me, a sob breaks the silence, and I fall to my knees.
I am aware now of the bruises that lay in my skin. Of all the cuts and burns that cover my soul. I wrap my arms around myself, and somehow, my heart breaks with all I have done to my Lord.
And that is when I feel a hand placed firmly on my shoulder. I turn my tear stained face towards him, my head shaking wildly. "No, Lord. I am not worthy." But he ignores my plea, and places his arms around me in an embrace. And I cry harder. "I am sorry, Lord. I am so sorry."
When he pulls away, a smile is upon his face, and he takes my hand, pulling me to my feet. The skin upon my arm is smooth; the bruises are gone. I am in awe. And Christ leads me through the darkness, onto the other side.
Author's Note: Like I said before, this is written from a picture that is in my head, and that I seriously want to paint. But as of yet, I'm not as good in the human figure as I would like to be, and am putting off painting it until I can do it in the best way possible.