Dorothy's account

Dorothy wrote the most amazing account of her awakening process - and submitted it for the High School writing contest. The story follows:

Freedom
I am in a place of blank, blinding brightness. Here, my life is appraised. I know not why, but I understand the reason for which I am being judged.
A finch flies down and perches beside me. The white feathers along his wings and back are lightly freckled with black spots, interrupted only by the red blossom of color on his chest. He stands erect beside me, remaining silent while the figures before me compose my verdict.
I feel a hollowness within me. I know why I would have to come here...when did I realize it was that time? I don’t remember...much of anything, really.
Two bright-faced individuals who evaluate my life spin to face me. I look away, down at the finch instead.
“We have decided,” says one, “but we’d like for you to converse with someone before we deliver the results.”
I attempt to look one of them in the face, but it proves folly, as I’m almost blinded. But another figure comes up behind me...this one is not too bright to look at. And I know her well.

Two girls tumbled out of the car, on an urgent mission. One held her backpack open for loading; the other had both hands free, but was poised for the upcoming work. They mumbled a sermon of patience to the driver before dashing to the house.
As the gate opened, the dogs, eager sentries, galloped forward, throats lined with furious snarls. Immediately they recognized the intruders. Barks turned to squeals of glee as they began sniffing, tongues darting out for the occasional lick. The one with the backpack ignored the dogs as she opened the door.
Inside, a man was busy at his computer, while his wife slept on the couch. The girls hurried into a back bedroom. They sifted through a basket on the floor, flinging clothes from it as needed. Before long, they were looking contentedly at the laden backpack. Well done.
They had decided to watch some baby videos later. The backpack carrier approached the man and requested that he hunt down the videos. He wearily complied.
A while later, he returned carrying the tapes. They gratefully pulled them from his hands. He commented, in a concerned voice, that the driver would be tired of waiting. When the girls brushed off the observation, he began offering cream puffs that he was trying to avoid eating. He was, however, courteously declined.
After saying their farewells, the girls left. The man waved as they scurried away. He grumbled to himself as he hobbled back.
Several minutes later, the phone rang. Answering it, he recognized a distressed voice which belonged to one of the girls.
“There was an accident...”

“It’s good to see you, but why are you here?”
The girl across from me is my friend. I know that. But what I really want to know is why she’d come to such a bright, empty place.
“Hey!” she calls to me, face alight with gladness. “I just came by to see you.”
I nod, looking back at the judges with fierce curiosity. No hints come from the stoic adjudicators, so I turn to my friend. Her words are hard to make out, as if she is speaking through a wall. I strain my ears to hear, but the finch lands on her shoulder and begins twittering noisily. I urge him to silence, but he continues to shrill. Finally, wanting to hear, I wave my hands to shoo the bird away. He continues to ignore me. Finally, when my friend has finished speaking, the bird hops off of her shoulder and lands on mine. I scold him with my disapproving glare, but he just begins preening.
After a long pause, my friend speaks. “I just wanted to say ‘hi’, and I hope you get better soon.”
I fix her with a puzzled gaze, but she is engrossed with an item in her hand.
“I brought you something.” She brings it into view. “I hope you like it.”
A white, furry seal. Its beady black eyes look upon me in a surreal state of mocking, as if it knows something I don’t. I reach out to take it.
My hand passes through the small stuffed animal. I look first at the seal, and then at my hand. Now that I think about it, I do seem have a certain transparency...
Another hand appears and takes the seal, thanking my friend. She smiles sorrowfully and nods gratefully.
When she looks back to me, I’m no longer in a land of white.

“Most of the teachers have been easy on me since the accident...”
Accident...?
“Everyone at the school misses you.”
Her face looks weary, as if she has not slept in days. I happen to know what she looks like after a day of sleeplessness, and this is far beyond that.
She smiles, again in that woeful way. “Well, I hope your surgery goes well.”
Surgery?
Everything she mentions seems far and foreign. I am not in a normal state, I realize. Something has pulled me into a dreamlike condition where everything is blurry and forgotten. I am unable to recall my past.
The seal appears again. The hand that had snatched it places it in my hand, trusting me to take care of the white creature. To my surprise, I can touch it now.
My friend waves as she exits the room. I want to wave back, but I find my arms unable to move.
I begin to drift away.

I blink as I re-enter the white land. The finch warbles in joy and settles down.
The judges have left. I look about worriedly, but they are nowhere to be seen. The finch lulls a grim, reassuring tune.
In a flash, they’ve returned! One carries a roll of parchment...
“We have the verdict.”
I breathlessly await it. I just...want to know.
“Are you sure you wish to know?” One of the judges asks me, his voice low and sympathetic. I nod.
He straightens up into the intimidating man I saw before, mirroring his bright counterpart, who unravels the scroll he holds.
“You have been found guilty. Your sentence takes effect immediately. You must not resist your fate.”
I shake my head with disbelief. Guilty? Me?! But I did nothing wrong!
“Your life has been evaluated. The result is not favorable.”
All I ever did was...nothing! Nothing wrong! Yet...this guilt is not something new. I was waiting to hear these words for many years...
I turn and flee, the finch still with me. I know that this is forbidden. The judges won’t forgive me if they see me again. Every bit of my will is put into escaping.
As I gallop away, my left shoulder rams into something. Something shatters. I stop, cringe, and grasp it with my right hand. This alerts the finch, who chirps angrily, urging me to go onward. I comply.
Something sharp object pierces my tongue. Blood pours into my mouth, but I let it dribble down my face so I won’t choke. The finch leaves my shoulder and begins to fly beside me, steering me.
Next, my jaw tears itself apart. I feel the bone halves pull apart from each other violently. I cry out, but only the finch who hears me.
I finally reach my destination. Here, I see a disappointing truth...

“There was an accident...”

...This wasn’t all a dream.
I stretch out my left arm, surprised to see it is nearly healed. As I ponder what has caused it to recover so quickly, the finch lands and sings again, much louder than usual. It’s almost as if...
I grab the delicate bird in my hand.
...it’s hiding something from me...
I begin squeezing. It struggles feebly against me, trying to escape.
...it doesn’t want me to realize the truth...
I come at it with my other hand, finding its neck.
...it doesn’t want me to get free.
The neck snaps, and the finch is dead.
I suppose I’m free now?
I come across something I lost long ago.
My consciousness.

The therapist leads me across the sidewalk carefully. If I were to lose my balance, it would be cataclysmic.
I’ve been walking and awake for over a week. Hearing the details of an accident I don’t remember disturbed me. I’m told many things, but none of them strike a note of familiarity. Everything in the world is blurred; dark and unfamiliar.
In the corner of my eye, I see a finch land in a tree. I pause to observe it.
White. Black spots. Red chest. Familiar. He reminds me of someone I knew.
“What’re you looking at?” the therapist hums. She smiles as she sees the creature that fills my vision. “Ah, a bird. How cute.”
I nod absently, aware that I’ve been watching the bird for a while.
She yawns. “Let’s go back to your room. It’s almost time for you to eat.”
The bird sings a short tune before flying off.