"I am lost. I am afraid. I am trapped in a void of darkness, roaming till no end, bumping into walls that are not there. Endlessly running from fate, from judgment. Running from the two who put me here. I have always cast my fate into the wind, but here there is no wind, no air. When you die, I was told that you no longer feel pain, but here in this endless void of a jail cell, pain is the only thing I know. I die every day, expecting to learn something, but the ending is all the same. The two men who killed me waste no time to do it again endlessly,with no mercy. The pain I feel is numb. Numbness confines my whole body. Leaving me to replay the events that lead me here."
There she is, Sitting on the bench writing in her diary. The eyes of heaven shine on her as her skin glows like the sun. Her blue eyes show grace, but there is a sadness hidden in them. Her blondish brown hair is full and rich but uncombed. She is the artist's depiction of the perfect female, a Devine mix of cultures compiled into one body. How can one full of beauty show an ounce of sadness?
"The day is good. I know, after everything I've been through, who am I to say that? I should see everything from a bleak point of view. But for once, things seem to be turning around for me! I am a paralegal at this law firm in Manhattan; I met these cool people at work, Who actually seem friend-worthy. #trustissues. But most importantly, I'm no longer confined in a toxic relationship. I finally feel free of him, but as I spread my wings and soar in the sky, I fear that his lightning will strike me down, leaving me featherless on the cold ground. But that's my paranoia getting the best of me, till next time."
She closes her diary and gently smiles.
"You got this", she says.
She puts her diary in her purse and gazes at the yellowish-green trees planted in the heart of Central Park, reminding her of the ranch In Montana she grew up in. She remembers the Black Stallion that was claimed by no man, always visiting her by her parents' old barn. She remembers chasing after the Stallion, and her parents chasing to stop her. This was when life greeted her with open arms, and she always hugged back. Breaking her concentration, a child rushes past her, laughing mockingly at his parents chasing him. She chuckles at the child. It's as if God was reading her mind. She looks to the sky and smiles. She sees a flock of doves soaring through the sky, moving gracefully with the wind absorbing the setting sun's light. She sees how light and darkness divide, creating shade. How they rejoice in the light but take comfort in the dark. Her eyes close as she allows God's breath to touch her, scattering her hair. She smiles and thinks,
"It is good."
As she stands from the bench, she considers where she should go. She decides to walk around the lake with nothing on her schedule, absorbing the evening's final rays of sunlight. Once the sun had made its daily descent, and she had seen it's light start to scatter in the branches, she chose to head home. She made her way around the lake, the cold, hard ground punching into the soles of her boots. As the skyline approached, it seemed to her as if the branches thickened, their shadows growing. There is a turn that comes after a bridge which she must make. Passing underneath the bridge, she looked as the sun disappeared. While she was distracted by the setting sun, a man came around the turn and pushed her to the ground. Looking up at her attacker, the darkness made it difficult to discern his features, not that it was to matter much. She heard the crunchy footsteps of another person in the direction from where she came, and in hoping this was to be her savior, she called for his assistance, only to be met with derision from the man in front of her and silence from behind. Before she could get out a word, she felt cold as steel was plunged into her back. Her screams were left on deaf ears.
"As I fade away, I can't forget the look. The haunting look. The one that still shakes me more than anything as I am still stuck in this hell. The look, or should I say, looks. As my soul fled my body, and I faded away, I took a quick glance at both. The piercing eyes of both my murderers. To whom killing me was nothing more than just a simple, straightforward task. I might seem so fixated on their look, but nothing in this world to me was more horrifying than that. I still have chills run down my spine whenever it crosses my mind. The blank stare of the man who held the knife high and pierced my body with more and more strength each time. The anger in the other holding me down as I struggled to hold on to my life. In the end, they won, and I lost. All I could remember seeing, is the old barn with the black stallion I remember how happy I felt jumping in the feilds, running beside the Stallion. Any sense of happieness seemed numb and so distant. I never thought that my life would come to an end like this. I never thought I would be at the edge of a cliff surrounded by people who had nothing more than hatred in their hearts for me. I thought my last moments would be with my loved ones. Little did I know, I'd be competing for my position in this world."
As my involuntary movements swayed me towards the screams, I knew only punishment awaited. The journey to the cries was excruciatingly long. While the screams got louder every passing second, my body was nowhere near their location. My thoughts drifted into a whole new territory, and now I began to question God's judgment. Why am I being punished? I am the oppressed. I deserve justice. And now I am being tortured? My thoughts were interrupted by the sudden sight of those who screamed. Screams of pain. Agony. Regret. Their pleas for mercy were ignored. Their cries for forgiveness melted into nothingness. Every tear they wept extinguished a sin and purified them for a moment only to face more severe torment. And I was to join them, leaving me to replay the events that lead me here."