Haven of the Nightlight

This cannot be happening. THIS CANNOT BE HAPPENING! The doctors said this could not happen. Doctors. As in multiple. Doctor after doctor told me I would never see this. There was a time that I would have been ecstatic to learn this. Not now. I am terrified. What do I do?

I hear the front door unlock. In this moment, I decide what I am going to do. I slide the bathroom window up and climb out. I run to the woods. I keep running until all of the sudden everything goes dark. Not because something is wrong with me, but because the day becomes night. I stop where I am. This is weird. I take a few steps back, and it is daylight again.

Cautiously, I take the few steps to go back into the nightlight. It is so beautiful and serene. I have never felt so safe in my life. I know I am right where I belong. My skin starts to glow. All of my multiple stages of bruising and scars start to swirl and shape like their own form of neon henna likep tattoos on my body. They even form different colored neon highlights in my long, dark hair.

Out from behind a tree, a beautiful chestnut colored horse with a white spot on his forehead walks up to me. I touch his forehead and know he is meant for me. I put my forehead to his. He wraps his neck around me, licks my hand, and hugs me like he has been waiting an eternity for this hug. “Hello, Galypsia,” he says.

“Walk with me,” he says. We walk with his head at my shoulder. Heeling as though I am leading him on this walk. We match each other’s pace. My head is overwhelmed with thoughts. Did this gorgeous creature just speak to me? No way. I am losing it. I am still sitting on the side of my bathtub and have had a break in reality. I have to be. Right?

I stop walking. “Where are we?” I ask.

“We are in the Haven of the Nightlight,” he replies.

“What is this place?” I ask.

“This is ours. It is a place where the beaten, the broken, and the damned come to be protected, mended, and blessed. A place where a mother loves, protects, and nourishes all. This is the Island of the Misfit Toys. Except, those who are thrown away or seek shelter are welcomed with loving arms,” he explains.

We continue walking while I process for a bit. I have not been safe for 15 years. This has to be a mental break. I have to have lost my mind. My husband has to have found me in the bathroom in a coma like trance. I have to be on my way to the hospital for a 72 hour suicide watch before being admitted into an insane asylum

If I am not in my right mind, pinching myself should not hurt, right? I pinch myself hard enough to yelp out loud. I see a ripple of color spread from that spot on my left forearm and spread to form more intricate, neon detailing on my skin. “Galypsia?”asked the horse. I look to him. “I know this is hard to believe, but you are really here,” he says. “You are not crazy.”

“Are you sure? I’m talking to my favorite kind of animal while walking in the nightlight during the daytime. It kind of seems like I’ve lost my gourd. Especially, after the news I have gotten today. Animals don’t talk. Not in the sense that you and I are right now. Granted, this would be a much better reality than the one I think my conscious mind might be in. So, since my brain is trying to find solace in chaos… Hello, I’m Galypsia. What’s your name?”