Light is a beautiful thing. It gives color to the world around us, allows us to navigate, and helps fine-tune our depth perception. Most importantly of all, it gives us security. There's nothing more relaxing than watching a light expand to peel away the darkness that had engulfed us.
I used to think that way, too. I used to believe that light was a beautiful thing, and that it protected us and made our world more... real. Then I learned how wrong I really was. Light can be just as cruel, if not more so, than the dark.
I've never seen a room so bright before. I've never seen walls so pure and clean, features so white, completely devoid of detail. Did you know that without a feature to define, the human mind begins to create images for itself in place of the vision it no longer has? Cut a ping pong ball into halves, lay back in a relaxing position, cover your eyes with the halves, and then wait. After enough time, you'll begin to hallucinate. Things will appear in your vision, and you'll have no real control over what they are.
That's the kind of room they kept me in. It was so well lit, so white, my eyes couldn't find any retaining features. Except, of course, my own body. I'd like to think that looking down at the color of my flesh, and the white of the clothes I was now wearing, would be enough to help me retain my sanity. Or perhaps it wasn't enough of a defining feature, and that's why I began to see the things I saw. That's how I'd like things to be.
But that's not what happened. I saw what I saw. Those weren't illusions or hallucinations. The light hides as many monsters and cruelties as the dark. In time, they may reveal themselves to the rest of the world, but for now they haunt only me.
So much light. It takes everything I have to stop myself from going mad.
Heed my warning. Take care to fill your world with both light and shadow, for only the balance of both will keep peace in your mind and in your world. Take care of yourselves, lest you end up like me, trapped in a white box lit with white light in white clothing, with no place to hide.
The angels are coming, and not all are fair.
