i don't know....

The darkness of the room enveloped him, wrapped him in its cold embrace, suffocating anything pure that may have been left.

Connor let out one choked tear, relishing the warmth as it blazed a trail down his weathered cheek. The moonlight broke through the canopy of clouds, shining one brilliant blue beam of light onto Connor’s face, turning his tear into a drop of ice, streaming down his face.

Quickly and quietly, without even knowing he was doing it, Connor closed his brilliant blue eyes, and fell to his knees beside his ancient bed, relishing the pain as he came in contact with the hard concrete floor.

Bathed in the night’s only light, Connor knelt beside his bed, and quietly spoke, in a voice only the dead could hear.

“If you’re there… if you still care, I need you now. I need to know… I need some sort of sign. Please…,” Connor’s words choked into a horrible sob, ending his ability to speak, if only momentarily.

“I… am so lost. If you’re still there, if you still care, I have to know… Is there any hope? For forgiveness? Are you still watching over us? Over me?...

“Am I still of your family?”

Connor could say no more – his voice, already hoarse from the events of the last few days, had burned away to a sandpapery nothing.

Hanging his head in a mixture of exhaustion and shame, Connor Ryan, opened his eyes, stared into the cracked cement floor, and whispered, “I’m sorry….”