Ascension [ON HOLD; EDITING]

Chapter One

“I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us.”  Romans 8:18

It was dark, the night we had arrived. From my window, I watched as drops slowly fell from the sky. Watching the drops race down my window pane. The thunder rolled loudly and the lightning was like bright lights that lit up the entire city. It was beautiful. A beautiful disaster. I loved it.

            I could hear the clinging of bottles downstairs and I tried to forget about what was happening. I tried to forget what was about to happen. I heard the phone ring and my dad talking. I pressed my knees against my chest and closed my eyes so tight my vision was black. I plugged my ears so I could go to another place. I wasn’t here. My heart was racing and my head was pounding.

            I could feel the rumble of the steps shake as he ran up the stairs. This wasn’t happening, this wasn’t happening.

***

            I was six when my mom died. My mom, was the most amazing person anyone could have. The day she died, was horrible for me. Not only was it just the fact that my mom died, but she died on my birthday. It was worse that I saw her die.

            I remember the day, as if it is carved in my brain and it won’t come out. The blood, her body, her tattered hair, pale skin. Her lips slightly parted, though no air was coming in or out of her.

            Watching her falling, seeing the blood, it was like I wasn’t me. I t was like I was watching everything unfold and I couldn’t do anything to stop it. I wasn’t even crying. Was that wrong? Was it so bad that not one tear escaped? Was it just the shock, the disbelief? It’s not like I never cried though, I did eventually. When the aftermath of my mom’s death hit.

            That’s when the voices started. First, it was just my name. Then it started telling me things, to do things. To say I was scared was an understatement. I didn’t know what was going on, and it terrified me.

            You want know the worst thing about all this is? I can’t stop any of it. I have no control over anything. I feel like I’m being torn from the inside and nothing I do can stop the massive tear that is occurring inside of me. I’m a ticking time bomb, not even I know when I’ll explode. I don’t know anything. And I don’t trust anyone. And it rots me from the inside.

            Everything spiraled after my mom died. When the case was closed and the killer got away, that’s when everything crashed. My first few scars, the loss of innocence, the pain.

Maybe if I had been a good little girl, daddy wouldn’t have been so mean to me.

***

            It was early. Probably a little too early for a six year old little girl. The sky was dark, slowly water fell on my window pane, signaling the start of a heavy rain. My favorite. I swung my feet over the side of the bed and slowly fell to the ground. My feet made a silent noise that barely, even I, could hear. I could hear my dad’s low snore’s coming from my parents room. I slowly padded my way to their room and opened the door.

            They looked peaceful. Sleeping angels that shouldn’t be disturbed. But my little klutzy six year old self, tripped over my own feet and fell, with a loud ‘thud’. With a jolt both my parents shot out of bed and ran to my aid. I was not going to cry. I was a big girl now and I would not cry. Surprisingly, I didn’t feel the need to cry. I mean, usually if I hurt myself in some way I need to cry. And here I was. Perfectly fine.