The New World: The Awakening. Leahann Cavanaugh

      Chapter 1

      Not Again

      Opening my eyes to darkness would usually scare the shit out of me, but for some reason, this time I was not. Everywhere I turned, everywhere I looked there was only darkness. Chills started to go up my spine and through my chest as if something was encouraging me to look around and explore. Why walk around nothing? I thought to myself as I stretched my arms out in front of me. I walked as if I were blind and looking for someone or something to guide me. I did this for what seemed like hours until all of a sudden, I felt something cold to the touch, like how metal feels on a cold winter night. It wasn’t hard at all, though. It was soft like the foam balls we used to use when we played dodgeball in gym class. I didn’t know if I was touching a wall. I was just happy I was touching an object.

      I started to push and was really feeling stupid as fuck. I got mad and started punching the object. As I let out all of my frustrations, I suddenly got that feeling again, except it was stronger and it made me breathe heavily. It damn near took my breath away. Something inside me told me to turn around. It wasn’t a real voice. I wasn’t hearing voices. It was more like a feeling, a strong urge to do something without knowing the reason why. So I did and I saw a light. This light was different from any other light I’ve seen. I started to walk toward this magnificent light. As I got closer, I started to feel emotions—overwhelming emotions. It felt like the rays of the sun was warming my body, lifting my spirit and embracing my soul. The color of this light was like nothing I’ve ever seen before—or maybe I have. I can remember it so vividly.

      I was five and it was a Friday night I’ll never forget. I remember it like it was yesterday. My grandma always gave me extra homework on Fridays since I was what she liked to call a “gifted child.” Even though I was only five, I had the level of a third grader. She said I had to stay on my toes. The homework she gave me wasn’t any ordinary work. She made sure I took my time and answered every question to the best of my abilities. I wanted to go outside so badly before it got too dark.

      I loved nature—bugs, animals, plants, it didn’t matter. I loved them all. And for some reason, they just took to me. All of them. I had a green thumb like no other. That’s the day I witnessed the sky turn. The colors were so amazing. Pink, purple, and green all at the same time. As I was catching my last lightning bug, my grandma called for me, “Lyric Sadé, it’s about that time.” As I was obedient, she only had to call once.

      I was a weird kid. I always thought that everyone had a purpose for being, and every action and effect had a meaning. The sky being that color just had to mean something.

      “Grandma, the sky is beautiful,” I said, admiring the sky, trying to stay outside as long as I could.

      “It sure is little bit. You ready for bed?” she answered back.

      Looking at the jar, not ready to let them go yet, I replied, “Grandma, what does that mean when the sky looks like that?”

      Puzzled, she said the most sweetest thing a grandma could say when she doesn’t know the answer: “Oh, baby, that’s just God laughing and smiling down on us, and since he’s God, he doesn’t just turn one color. He turns as many as he wants.”

      Being five, that was a good enough answer for me.

      As I reached the radiant light, I was no longer cold. Flashes of light hit me from every angle like I was an A-list celebrity with a sex tape and TMZ had the rights to my first official statement. I didn’t get the feeling of being ashamed or disgusted. I felt loved and respected. As I looked up to the sky, there wasn’t a cloud in sight, and those colors were everywhere. I thought to myself, God is happy. As I looked around and saw all the people so happy, so content, it was like I was feeling these emotions for myself. There was not a car in sight. Skyscrapers were nonexistent. No one was begging for food or money. Everyone was getting along. The more I walked, the more I felt. As the wind blew through my hair and my clothes that I didn’t remember putting on, it was like the wind carried a message that blew to me, then through me and onto the next living object. It whispered, “War no more.” I felt my soul smile. Then a teenager and his dad walked past, and the boy asked, “Dad, what’s war?” I had this feeling of being worthy, successful, and free. Another gust of wind hit me; this time the message carried the feeling of being full. Full of what? You might ask. Full of hope, love, compassion, and prayer.

      There was no such thing as a poverty

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