See the Light Chapter 2 part 5 Song for the Souls

The lyrics poured from me like a confession, each word an echo of a memory I couldn’t quite grasp, yet it felt as though they were pulled from the deepest recesses of my soul.

“Days without end and endless nights without no fear, screams through the night…”

The words floated through the air, dark and heavy. I could see the patrons’ faces—hardened, weary, eyes like stone—soften, their guarded expressions cracking ever so slightly. The bartender, who had been watching me with an unreadable gaze, leaned forward, his hand frozen mid-polish over a glass, utterly captivated.

“Long row of soldiers, bullets flying past, lonely children covered in ash…”

A collective shiver seemed to pass through the room. They weren’t just listening—they were reliving something. I could see it in their eyes, flickering with shared pain, shared loss. The emotions were so thick I could feel them in my chest, constricting my breath as I pushed through the chorus, my voice rising.

“Mama don’t stop fighting for breath, nothing can touch me, no, no…”

The song’s sorrowful notes seemed to seep into the very walls. The room held its breath with me as I sang of loss, of desperation, of the unbearable weight of survival. Each word was a blade, cutting through the fog of my own amnesia, revealing brief flashes of war-torn landscapes, the scent of smoke, the taste of tears—none of it familiar, yet all of it undeniably mine.

“Daddy is dead, not lying in his bed, nothing can hurt me more…”

As the chorus repeated, my voice dipped into a haunting whisper, the final verse wrapping around the room like a shroud. I could feel the audience’s collective heartbeat, their pasts entwined with my song, drawing us together in a moment of shared mourning. Their eyes were dark pools of history, reflecting the horrors they’d seen, the loved ones they’d lost, the nightmares they couldn’t escape.

“The dark eye of the soldier, the dark eye of the soldier…”

I held the last note, letting it linger in the air, trembling and raw, until it faded into the heavy silence that followed. The final strum of the guitar reverberated through me, and for a moment, it felt as though I’d torn open my own chest, baring my soul to these strangers who now looked at me with a mixture of awe and something darker, something unspoken.

There was no applause. Only a silence so profound it felt sacred. The bartender was the first to move, his face a mask of something close to reverence as he slowly nodded at me, his lips pressed into a thin line as if afraid to speak, to break whatever spell I had woven.

“Where… did you learn to do that?” he asked, his voice hoarse, barely more than a whisper.

I looked down at my hands, still resting on the guitar strings, my fingers trembling slightly. I wanted to answer him, but there were no words—only the aching void in my memory, of a life I couldn’t quite reach. Instead, I simply shook my head and smiled, the weight of my past pressing down on me like a lead blanket, suffocating and endless.

And as I looked out at the crowd, at the hollow-eyed men and women who had been transported by my song, I realized something chilling. Whatever had brought me to this place, this world, it was connected to the darkness I had just sung about—a darkness that had not only touched my life but had defined it. I wonder what it might have been.

Then, from the back of the room, a voice called out, breaking the spell. One by one, the guests began banging their pints on the table, the rhythm growing louder, a chorus of demand. They wanted more. And for the first time since I arrived in this strange place, I felt something familiar—happiness. It washed over me, a sensation I hadn’t realized I was missing. The joy of performing, of connecting with an audience, surged through me like a long-lost friend.

I carefully placed the instrument down, its strings still humming with the remnants of the song. Turning to the bartender, I kept my voice steady, masking the excitement bubbling inside. "If I play three more," I asked, "can I get food, water, and the information I need?"

His eyes gleamed with an interest that hadn't been there before. He nodded slowly, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "If you play three more," he said, "you'll get all of that and more."