The Forgotten: Part of a Short Story

The light, so brilliant and beautiful, everywhere always everywhere, filling every corner and creves. Shining around me, through me, from me. I feel delishesly warm, the heat spreading though out my entire body. All my nerves and senses completely aware of all life, even the smallest miniscule particles. Then the voices, they are always next, as much as I relish hearing them, I also dread it because I know what is coming after. “You are complete” they whisper in a warm, kind tone, one that puts me right at ease. “You must do it, for all life to continue” the voices getting louder, clearer with each word spoken. By this time I can normally define certain voices from the rest. They starts out sounding as one, as if a million voices all speaking in unison, but as the conversation goes on I can start to tell them apart, today I’m looking for one in pictular. I never why I’m looking for the one voice slightly different or even who they are, I just know that I’m looking for them. A feeling that if I find them everything will be explained. But I never do, oh sometime I feel like I’m close, ...

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