Previous Challenge Entry (Level 4 – Masters)
Topic: INDEFATIGABLE (02/11/16)
By Sara Harricharan
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The energy in the spellbound audience is unbearable. Wearing their viewing shades—they quiver. A proper Resonance is power and light spilling out from wherever it can. Eyes, ears, mouths—bursting forth from the heart.
Pure, raw emotional energy.
A frantic, burning sensation clawing its way out of my bosom and melding into my voice to pass my lips.
Twelve years and it still hurts.
I shouldn’t have agreed to share this stage, but I can’t stop hoping that something good might happen this time. We never had an official divorce. He simply left at the same time I did.
Without our sweet Sophie, our fragile happiness had shattered.
Curse the hands that stole her. The wretches that couldn’t find her. The darkness that held us captive instead.
I hear the heaviness in his voice that was never there before. I understand, because it means he couldn’t stop singing either.
This torturous gift that cries if I do not use it, express it and flaunt it. A precious talent festering and destroying from inside out—unless I loudly proclaim its amazing properties in every single entertainment hub.
Still. It’s hard.
Sophie was our only child.
Why would someone take her from us? We were good parents. We gave everything we never had.
At eight-years-old, she was starting to Resonate with us. An unheard of phenomenon for a mere child under eighteen.
Her pretty, lilting voice haunts me. So light. So free. So pure.
I know she lives. I feel it. Wherever she is—may God and fortune shine on her.
One day, I will find her.
Perhaps she will find me.
The Resonance explodes out of me with all the thunderous force it can. I stumble back a few paces. My palms sweat. It always overwhelms.
Brightness swarms the entire stage, until the loud, warbling crackle of the energy coils hidden in the wings, begin to hum to life. The protective shield raises within seconds as the humming grows louder. The power dancing off to where it is most useful.
Our song reaches a fever pitch.
Somehow, my husband’s hand is in mine and I cannot bear to pull it free—because it feels like home.
I have missed him.
The song ends. The stage lights dim.
At the far end of the front row, dressed in shabby gym clothes with a travel duffel slung over one shoulder, a pair of blue eyes stare at me.
I stumble on the first line of the second song. I don’t know that face, but those eyes are glowing.
His hand tightens on mine.
The energy crackles in the air around us, preparing for the next wave. We are the only couple known to do this. Multiple Resonance.
Music reverberates through the hall.
Her lips glow now—and I can see that she is mouthing the words before I can even say them.
A fierce protectiveness revives within me and I feel the resonance throbbing in my breast before the chorus arrives.
When the light burns in her chest, seeking a way out from beneath the layers—I know. Her duffel is cast aside as she claws the jacket off.
Words fail me.
Song does not.
My husband takes over the next verse, but he falters—finally seeing what has captured my attention.
She stumbles onto the stage, glowing so bright, even the security cannot approach.
There’s nothing human in the cry that leaves my lips, but it’s echoed by his howl of grief.
Resonance erupts from our heartfelt moment, tearing through the hall in streaks of vivid, neon green. It shatters every glass surface, uncaring of the audience’s squeals and screams.
It strains at the walls and tears at the floor—but somehow, today—it feels like strength and hope.
Exhaustion washes over me—there was more power in that than I’d intended. But it is worth it, to hold this treasure in my arms once more.
I don’t know what took her, but I will know. I don’t know what brought her back—but I am grateful.
This makes it worth it. Every single agonizing breath is repaid tenfold in the way that we cling to each other.
Still glowing bright.
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