Shine on, my little Lux

I would like a disclaimer.

I, Echo Winters, am not - nor ever will be - insane.

But. . . there are some questionable moments.

Like this light.

See, there was a light.

It was kind of like an 'end of the tunnel' light.

But it wasn't the end, because it had been the beginning. I'd had to travel all the way to the end to find that light, and when I'd emerged, there it had been, waiting for me, blobbing softly and whispering words of encouragement.

It was bright. It was yellowish. It was hopeful kind of light. One that you looked at and that shined no matter how crappy the weather, how thunderous the tide, how bright the other lights were. It shined because it had a special purpose.

And that special purpose was me.

I loved that light.

That love was like the deep, soul-burning, toe-curling, unadulterated loving that you have of another person. It was fierce, it was protective, and it was warm. Because, gods, lights are ever so warm. I never wanted it to dim, never wanted it to wane, and as it was, it became my light.

I loved that light because it was MY light.

Because my light was perfect in every way.

And I'll cut the bitch that says otherwise.

So what my light didn't 'flash' like the other lights. So what if my light couldn't turn peacock colours. So what if my light didn't show up on Christmas. So what if my light didn't illuminate important things, like police flashlights or road signs. So what, I say.


We'd met on a dismal afternoon.

Crushed, I had entered the realm of " Misgivings", and " Pity Party", where the two had conjoined in one room for one epic party of soul-shattering meagerness. There'd been a door marked " Forget", and I, in my eagerness, had rushed to it, disregarding the very fine print on the handle.

That tunnel I'd told you about?

It'd been a hallway.

A hallway full of trips and hurts and booby-traps.

I've fondly named it Hallway from Hell. We never really did get along very well, but it most likely had to do with the fact that it was trying to kill me at every step.

And I HATED that hallway with a passion that equaled the energy of a thousand suns, a bazillion lights. When I'd opened the wrong door, a thousand knives had flown at me. They'd left scars, and I'd nearly been finished, but I saw my light again, hovering up in the corner.

The light came, and bathed me in that golden glow. Go on, it said. Continue.

But I couldn't, and the tile underneath me was eking the warmth from my broken body.

The light had flickered once, and then left.

I hadn't liked when it had left.

It left me even colder, even more lonely, and I realized the light had only been trying to help.

My legs shaking, I had stood up. I hope that the light appreciated the strength and pain I had to go through to make my legs work.

It'd only given me a irritated flicker, to which I'd promptly stuck my tongue out.

But the Hallway was from Hell.

It was evil, for the next step I'd taken had plunged me into a pit. Down, down, down into an earthy pit that stank of mold and mud, with sticks sticking out and dripping with water.

But I could see that light hovering, light steady and strong, and I began to claw myself out. The light helped show where the rocks were, where the handholds and footholds were, and which roots were good enough to grab a hold.

As I'd flopped on the edge, exhausted from my climb, the light had warmed my cold bones, staying with me through the hours as I recovered. When I had enough strength to walk, my light had returned once again to that corner at the end of this seemingly endless hallway.

The next trap had been a fragment. One that had teased me and beckoned me to fragment had had the face of an Angel, and he bathed the entire wretched hallway in a different kind of glow - one that blocked out my light and enticed me. He'd whispered and cooed and pleaded, and so I'd followed.

Hey, he said he had a short cut. . .

Straight into a pit of slimy, gross, disgusting red things. I'm not even sure what they were, but they pulsating, and it made me nauseous. My Angel had disappeared, leaving me with no illumination from his heavenly body.

He'd laughed as he left me with the gross things.

The short cut had led me away from that hallway, away from my light, and I'd been saddened. Because that light had helped me, and I'd abandoned him for another sort of illumination that'd been false.

Then that pit of gross things split open, and I fell into another pit. This one was not earthy; it was full of rounded stones, slick from water. I looked for my light - I'd become rather fond of it - but it didn't show up. My trickster Angel had led me to far away from my light.

I had tried to climb out.

My hands slipped.

I had tried to jump out.

My legs slipped.

I sat down, then, and I'd cried.

Fat, ugly tears rolled down my cheeks. I was never a pretty crier, with that one pretty teardrop falling down my cheek. Hell, I wasn't even pretty. Crying just sort of amped up my disgusting appearance.

I cried, and I cried. Because I was lost and I was alone.

And an ugly crier.

I cried because I was an ugly crier. I was vain.

I cried until my head hurt, my nose red from sniffling, and I then I cried some more. My chest hurt something awful as my mind ran in circles, treading the same beaten path that I'd butchered with my clumsiness. My Angel had left me. My light was not coming back. And it was my Angel's fault, because he'd been the one who said he had a shortcut.

And then the hallway from Hell showed me that magic did exist, for suddenly the pit filled with water that tasted salty, and I floated out of it with my tears. All around me, the gross disgusting things were still pounding, and I picked on up, marked Echo Winters. Hell, I didn't even know I'd had a gross disgusting thing, but it looked like it was mine.

Take a minute and reflect on that sentence: I'd cried enough to fill a twenty foot pit with tears so I could float out of it.

I am NOT insane. Get that?

Managing to stumble back to the Hallway from Hell, my heart nearly broke from relief in seeing my light. My face swollen from crying, my eyes red, my hair a mess.

I had asked my light if it would forgive me for going after another illumination. I'd never meant to abandon it like that. I'd had no idea how hard it had taken my abandonment, how rejected it had felt, but I had also suffered as well.

Look at this little gross thing, I'd said to it, holding up that writhing goop. It was held together with Scotch Tape and staples, and had never looked more ugly. Echo Winters. Mine. Why it was mine, I'd never know why. It hurts.

My light had shrunk down to the size of a penny, squeezing far into that corner, as far as possible from me, giving me my answer.

Tears fell freely once more, blinding my eyes. I turned away - I should just go back. The door labeled 'Forget' was too far away, and most likely the Hallway from Hell had more hellish things planned for me. I felt beaten up and thrown under the bus, my body given to the mortuary labeled " Jane Doe" because no one would take responsibility for me. No one gave a shit about me to even care.

Of course, that was just a metaphor.

But it might've happened.

Aren't I poetic?

There was a door. A rather lavish looking door, made of mahogany that shimmered dimly from the small glow of my light.

In big, brass letters, I wearily read the word 'Relief'.


How much I needed that right now.

My light had left me.

My Angel was flying with another.

And my light would never forgive me again.

What hell was waiting for me behind the door of Relief? My fingers traced the golden door knob. It was so pretty, but I was hesitant to open it. This entire Hallway of Hell was just an expressive, expensive trick. Would it really be relief? Would it really bring me reprieve from this physical and mental pain? It was most likely another pit that I'd have to crawl or cry out of, and I was no longer in the mood to continue with this big game.

But. . . it didn't really matter, did it?

I opened the door.

And was met with a black wall of . . . nothingness?

What, no knives? No pits? No moody lights? No demonic Angels?

I craned my neck in, feeling cool air wash my sweaty hair back. I couldn't see anything, yet I could tell that it was a black ball of empty space. No lights glimmered from the bottom. There was no floor, for that matter.

I swished my hand in, parting the blackness.

I looked down.


I looked up.


I looked to the left.


I looked to the right.


I knew that in that instant, if I stepped in, I would fall. I could continue to fall, and fall, and fall, and fall. I would never hit the ground, I would never hurt myself again, I would never feel abandoned and unwanted. I would never feel like a failure. I would fall for the next millennium, into the next era. I would feel nothing but bliss and the cold air rushing through my hair and over my skin.

And it didn't seem so bad.


I like the cold.

Hell yeah!

This was the relief!

Thank you, Hallway of Hell, for giving me a shortcut!

I think I might love you.

My foot raised over the darkness, I leaned in.

Nothing short of a miracle could've stopped me.

But my light did.

It solidified into a solid gold wall - don't ask me how, this world is magical. It stopped my pursuit of Relief, stopped it cold with a warm aura and a benign little flicker. Bumping me out, it slammed the door of Relief shut.

It made a metallic scraping sound, and my ears bled.

I could tell my light was angry. Bouncing up and down like a wild puppy, it continued to chide me in it's funny little language. I'd nodded, because I felt that it needed a serious moment, but inside, my heart was beating wildly. Before I could stop myself, my grin spread, and I'd hugged my light as best I could.

It gave a small sound of approval, wrapping warm rays around my shoulders, and I snuggled into it's security.

I love you, I told it.

I know, it'd replied.

And then it led me to the door that had previously been labeled "Forget." I frowned, because the words Forget had been replaced with this weird word. I'd never practiced it before, because it seemed so silly and trite. I'd been to angry to ever consider it.

But the brass letters now spelled:


Little did I know, the fine print on the door had read something like this:

" The path to forgetting is often filled with treacherous decoys. Many dangerous things lurk behind this door. You've been led here, either by choice or by circumstance, and your desire is to forget whatever horrible, terrible, no-good thing that happened to you. We've all been there. Yes, you're not you don't realize, though, is that in your haste to forget, you, ironically, forget one crucial piece of evidence. To forget, you must forgive."

Well, I'm not sure if it said that exactly. The original one was full of complex analogies and technical terms, so I've adapted it to suit my needs better. But you get my drift.

And my light blinked happily at me.

And we walked off into the sunset with pretty pink ponies and rainbows.

" Echo, what the hell are you doing?" came a voice. " Are you even ready?"

I snap out of my daze, my lips curling into an involuntary smile, and I glance at my fiance. He was standing at the door, tie undone around his neck, half his shirt untucked, and a smirk gracing those oh-so-perfect lips.

I laugh. " Come and look at what I wrote three years ago!"

" We've got to -"

" Come one, you big lug! I compared Vincent to an Angel!"

" You what?" His interest piqued, and not in a good way, Lux marches over to me.

" Don't worry, though," I assur him. " He drops me in a pit full of broken hearts which then drops me in another pit. I called him trickster and demonic if it helps."

" That bastard does not deserve to be even remotely characterized as an angel."

" He's a baaad angel," I emphasize, grinning. " From the Hallway of Hell!"

Lux came closer, encircling his arms around my waist and resting his chin on my shoulder to look at my laptop. He smells of aftershave, and I press my head against him, snuggling. He was silent as he read the first page, but I feel his cheek lift in a smile. His laugh starts to rumble in his chest, and before I could defend myself, he gives me a sweet kiss on the forehead.

" I like what you've gotten so far, but did you remember that we kind of have a important meeting tonight with your parents?"

" It's about us!" I protest innocently. I scroll up and down the page hurriedly. " I can't believe that I made you my light. Can you believe it?"

" You made me your light quite literally, from what I've seen," he says, laughing. " Glad to know that I'm such a knight in shining armor for you, babe."

I grin at him, shutting my laptop lid, and held my left hand out. One my ring finger is a gorgeous, yet simple diamond band. " I'm sure my parents already know that you're my knight in shining armor. And that you promise to save this damsel in distress for many years afterward."

Lux, aptly named for his golden eyes, rolls them and proceeds to lift me up. I squeal, wrapping my arms around his neck as he carried me bridal style to the living room. He sets me down, kissing me softly on the nose. " And I always will be."

I hook my fingers around his tie. " You really, really," - I lean closer, till we were eye to eye, holding him captive by his tie - " need to read my story. It's a parody. I kind of like it. It's about our whole friendship."

" And eventual romance? And wooing? And courtship?" Lux interjects, his expression and eyes laughing. " Are there hot sex scenes?"

This is why I love Lux. He's playful. He's 's. . . real. Honest to god, this boy is more real to me than anyone else is.

He was willing to help me. He'd stopped the blades. He'd pulled me out of depression. He'd come back after Vincent had nearly left me broken beyond repair. And I shudder as I think of that rainy night on top of that bridge, staring down at the swelling water.

Lux had been the only reason I hadn't jumped.

That night, when I'd finally stepped down from that bridge, I'd driven straight to Lux's apartment.

And kissed him right on that beautiful mouth.

And here we were now. And I've got the ring on the finger to prove it.

" No, there aren't any hot sex scenes."

" Aww," he pouts.

" Shut up," I say, fixing his tie. I pat his chest. " There you go. Now, let's head out."

" Will your parents kill me?"

" No. Only if you tell them we've had sex."

" Oh, well then I won't do that."

" Good."

" Echo?"

" Yeah?"

" I love you."

" I love you too."

Author's Note: Commence sappiest ending in the whole world! Yayayayayayay!

Haha! That was fun to write! How many of you knew that it was talking about overcoming depression, suicidal thoughts, and that the light would be her fiance? Because I CERTAINLY didn't as I was writing it. Dude, I was just writing and writing and then I read back and was like, huh, let's make this a little bit more deeper. Please note that this is a humor type of thing, and I do not need to offend or hurt anyone. I know how serious depression and suicide are, and am in no way making fun or light of those.

Hey, would you be a beautiful person and check out my profile? I got three other stories The Life and Lies of Athena Carlton (romance) and I want to be a Butterfly (humour), and there's something else but I just can't remember the name of it.

Oh well!

Hope you enjoyed!

May you never forget your desire to discover,