The cloaked figure

The cloaked figure turned to me, his deep purple cloak swaying slightly as he faces me. He reaches out a hand looking almost apologetic. Though I could not see his face I could tell, he was sad. I didn’t know why. Perhaps it was pity. Most people might be frightened if a hooded figure came to them but… he seemed… soft? He stood there patiently for me. It didn’t take long for me to figure it out though. Looking around me the fog that had invaded my mind cleared. The broken glass that surrounded me, twinkling in the moonlight, the broken tree. It all started flashing back. I looked up at the tall figure, tears invading my vision. This couldn’t be the end. I had so many people in my life. These thoughts flooded my mind. I was confused, I couldn’t understand the logic behind my emotions. I was conflicted. Cause even though I have a dozen reasons to want to fall to the floor and sob like a small child, every time I look up to the figure that stood so patiently in front of me, I can’t help but feel so… peaceful. The purple cloak spread over the ground as he knelt. The cloaked still holding out his hand slowly and kindly spoke “ it’ll all be alright.” A low but kind voice, so soft it could blow away with the wind. “take my hand when you’re ready.” I knew what he meant, at that moment that tears that invaded my eyes had started spilling over. He didn’t say anything, he just sat and let me cry. When I finally stopped I thanked him, “I guess it’s time.” I took his hand, following silently as he led me away.