Perhaps there was no hope.
A glassy tear slid down Miranda ghostly white cheek before smashing onto the cold floor in a brief swiping motion. The sight was beautiful but heartbreaking. She hadn’t cried in years, probably because it hadn’t hurt this much before. Although the drop was intriguing she paid the tears’ fluid motion no mind. How could she? Many other things littered her mind like swarms of trash littering an alleyway. She was stuck. Stuck within a whirlwind of fears that swirled her thoughts up into the clouds and away from the dark room where she had sat for five years.
“Perhaps He isn’t even real Miranda; have you ever even seen Him?” She shook her head and allowed it to hang lower.
The hissing voice continued, “You best not try because it won’t amount to anything.” The girl slumped lower. “Even if He did exist why do you think the Creator of Light would want anything to do with you?” Its scaly talons wrapped around her neck. “You’re only a wretched deceived child.” Miranda gasped for air and put her head in her hands. She didn’t know what to believe. Perhaps the voice that had haunted her these many years was right. Another tear slipped down her cheek and splattered against the floor.
Perhaps there was no hope.
If the Father of Lights wouldn’t acknowledge her presence no one but this voice would. The weight of the world shifted onto her shoulders. She stuck a hand out to balance herself on the frigid concrete. Miranda yelped when it made contact. The floor was even colder than she remembered. The skin on her knees and legs had become accustomed to the piercing feeling of ice due to years of residing on the surface. Not unlike her resolve to live they had begun to lose their feeling entirely.
This icy prison was hell. Miranda lifted her head and took in a view of the room. It was blocked in on all sides with large concrete walls. There was no light and seemingly no escape. Years of confusion and darkness clouded her vision from any chance for freedom. She shivered violently then paused before looking up from the floor. Perhaps there was hope. She lifted her pale neck. Maybe He was there. Just like they have always told me…perhaps he is the only hope I have. She whispered His name, the one she had learned many years ago. “Abba.” To which the voice responded tauntingly, “He can’t hear you.” The girl slumped deeper into the corner and mumbled to herself, “He isn’t real.” She curled back into a tight ball and sobbed. The longer she sat the more putrid the air became.
The icy prison was hell.
Before long a dark presence permeated the air between the concrete walls. It smothered and choked her. She couldn’t live with all of this much longer. In a last attempt to meet the Creator of Light, the One she had heard of in her childhood, she lifted her face towards the dark ceiling and screamed, “Show me light… Father!”
All at once, she heard a loud cracking noise and shrieks followed by a flutter of scurrying. In a brief moment the atmosphere in the room shifted. The darkness had released its’ choking grip on her but she was rendered breathless when she looked tried to find the location of the cracking noise. She turned to her right. There it was, a very large oak door protruding into the room. It had busted through the concrete and inched itself into her cell. Her bright eyes scanned the intricate cracks and divots of the wood before making their way to an crest that lay just above the massive handles of the entry way. The crest was of a lion.
The crest was of a lion.
She paused to stare. There was something so majestic about this intrusion. For some odd reason she could feel the presence of royalty. Unfortunately it was a presence the darkness tried to shield her from. Swarms of dark creatures batted against her frigid legs, arms and face. Their fleshy wings slapped against her ears. She opened her mouth to scream but the darkness filled her lungs. She dropped to the ground.
“Father! If you are real please help me.” She lay in the frigid position until she mustered enough strength to raise herself off the ground. Weakly she looked up. Unfortunately, she was now face to face with the darkness that had held her captive for these many years. Nausea and fear filled her empty stomach. The creature glared down on her. Its bulbous, red eyes popped from its’ scaly skin and scanned her up and down. “He isn’t here to help the likes of you.”
Unfortunately she was now face to face with the darkness…
The piercing sound of a trumpet blasted through the concrete walls. She saw deep pain in the creature’s eyes. “No.” It whispered to itself then screamed to the walls around them, “No!”
“Yes.” Miranda looked towards the door; it had started to crack open. Streams of brilliant light poured from the opening crevice. Frightened, the creatures scurried to and fro trying to escape from the light. One or two were caught in the light and disintegrated before their shrieks could be heard.
“No!” It demon screamed again. It tore its’ eyes from the light and locked them on Miranda. A sinister smile lined its’ dark face before it lunged towards Miranda and took her throat in its’ mouth. She screamed and dropped to the floor, snatching and grabbing at the creature. Her attempts to rip it away from her skin failed. It continued biting harder and harder into her flesh.
It continued biting harder and harder into her flesh.
“Fath…” she gurgled. No one could save her now. With the remaining amount of breath in her she screamed as loudly as she could, “Save me!” A burst of piercing light shoot through the room and enveloped every creature in its’ glow. Her captor turned to ash before her eyes. Miranda squeezed her eyes shut then opened them again. A large, lush field had replaced the concrete. The darkness had finally left; she no longer felt its’ pressing presence. In substitution there was a light presence around and beside her. It felt so powerful but yet so gentle. The door began to open wider.
The gentle sound of strings filled the air followed by a steady drumbeat. Choruses of voices could be heard. It sounded like they were worshipping the Father. The music and voices dipped, swung and dove into octaves that were impossible to man. Miranda felt any fear and pain melt away. Warmth began to fill her broken heart as light rays poured over her skin. The door opened completely. Beams of radiant light shoot to all corners of the room and smashed down the concrete walls surrounding her. They fell with a terrifying rumble. Miranda tucked her head in between her knees and began to tremble. When the sounds of destruction ceased, only the voices could be heard. They ended their song on a piercing note that lifted above Miranda’s head and deep into the heavenlies. All was silent.
The music and voices dipped, swung and dove into octaves that were impossible to man.
Then a deep voice spoke. It was strong, comforting and so near to her.
“I am here Miranda.” She lifted her face from the ground. The girl did not need to look far to find the origin of the voice. The man, clothed in white was perched beside her with a look of delight on his face.
“I am here.” He moved closer and she allowed herself to be wrapped in His strong embrace. The floodgates of pain opened and tears began to spill onto the ground around them. She looked into His gentle eyes and cried, “You’re here.” He gently helped her to stand, looked at her with those gentle eyes then effortlessly lifted her with His strong arms. She looked down at Him as He held her and began to laugh. Miranda hadn’t experienced joy in years; laughter she remembered was nothing compared to this. It harbored a deep, abiding feel, much like a wellspring of life that bubbled from her stomach. She spun with the dancing King, laughing with Him until her tears turned from drops of sorrow to symbols of joy she hadn’t felt for years.
She noticed the concrete that once had stood so tall had not only fallen away, it had also disappeared under hills of emerald grass and wildflowers. He bent over, picked some luminescent flowers for the “Daughter of the King” then took her hand. “Come Princess” He smiled. She followed with a bounce in her step as they travelled over the bright green grass and towards a marble bench. Colors she had never seen took on their identity as flowers and sprung up on all sides of the majestic chair. Miranda took a deep breath, cleared her throat and looked into His gentle eyes.
“Thank you for rescuing me… for what do I owe this honor?” In response He began to laugh, a deep rumbling laugh that seemed to shake the earth beneath. She felt flecks of it fly into her insides and she started to giggle. A few moments later His laughter ceased but a gentle glimmer remained in His eyes.
“You owe me nothing. I only wish for your time and attention. I am real Miranda.” He whispered. “And I am here; in your darkest hours remember to call on me.” She nodded her head and took a deep breath.
“Yes, yes Father.”