by Terry W. Lessig
“Called to a higher purpose.” That’s what the voice in my head says. I’ve heard that voice speak to me all of my short life. It directs me where to go, what to eat, and how to behave. It even put me in the position I’m in now, and through the pain, I still trust it.
I’d seen this happen to others, and always wondered what it would feel like when my time came. I didn’t think it would be so soon, but no matter—it’s far better than the starvation some face each winter. At least I’m being used and not wasted.
The pain is subsiding now. I’m getting cold and I am weakening, but I press on. Just ahead, the dense forest canopy seems to open, and a small patch of the woodland brightens. “Come toward the light,” the familiar voice calls. It sounds warm and friendly. Night falls, and I want to go.