Running, constantly running. Her
heart was pounding, energy waning thin, tiny beads of perspiration gathering on
her forehead. For as long as she could remember, Jezebel Riley had been
running. She couldn’t stop but didn’t want to continue. It had become a way of
life. She was always on the move, unable to catch a break. Who was she running
from? Where was she running? Why couldn’t she stop? These are the questions
that haunted her. Having been raised in the Riley family, Jezebel was not a
quitter but she couldn’t carry on like this anymore.
She woke in a panic each morning
and the chaotic frenzy would begin.
Her body had quickly learned the fight or flight response and it was now
programmed as autopilot.
Adrenaline coursed through her veins. The voices in her head grew louder as each foot hit the
pavement. Jezebel hoped this
morning would be different. She
was starving, her throat parched and the grey clouds overhead held no promise
of the breakthrough she’d been hoping for.
How
did my life end up this way? Why
am I all alone? Jezebel
thought as she rounded the corner toward the long alley ahead. She had been trying to make sense of
her unfortunate set of circumstances for quite some time, yet the answers never
came. As she turned down the
alley, she caught a glimpse of her figure. She was disgusted with her emaciated body.
“I used to be beautiful, healthy
and loved. I guess those days are
long gone.” Jezebel muttered under her breath as she pushed herself faster,
harder. Perhaps today she would
finally reach her destination.
Unshed tears came as the fear in her heart gave way to sorrow. She didn’t even know where she was
headed. How on earth would she
know if she had reached “the place?”
Was it her imagination or did she
hear laughter? The backside of the
buildings on each side of her began tilting toward the alley. It seemed as though they would give way
and topple down on her at any second.
As she glanced up at the building on her right, Jezebel’s sneaker caught
the edge of a dumpster and she fell, hard. Finally, she could rest. She sat there on the pavement staring at the blood running
down her knees and allowed herself to cry.
As she wept, Jezebel caught the
scent of freshly baked bread. For
a moment, her mind drifted back to her mother’s kitchen. She could see the smiling faces, her
entire body was hungry for the long ago days. “Stop it!”, she scolded herself as she struggled to get to
her feet. Jezebel could not allow
herself to entertain thoughts of such far away yesterdays. She brushed the dirt off her backside,
glanced down at her knees and took off again. At least she could focus while she was running.
If it weren’t for the hunger she
would be able to fun faster. It
was then that the dizziness set in and the weight pressing down on her
shoulders grew intense. She could
hardly see straight. In an
instant, everything went silent and her body felt lighter than air. The memories assaulted her, caught in
between consciousness and a senseless stupor. The darkness was calling to her. She was fighting to look forward but her body began to spin
and then she heard his voice. Was it
really him? It couldn’t be after
so long, Jezebel thought, with what was left of her conscious mind.
Her mind was foggy, her vision
gone, her body failing, but in spite of all that, she could hear his soft voice
calling her name, though barely audible over the sound of her pounding heart. Yes, it was him. She was sure of it. A smile came from the depths of her
soul as she began the downward spiral.
The light was bright before her.
Her breathing became shallow as her mind shut down and her body faltered
on the pavement. She couldn’t
fight it anymore. The fight was
gone. As she was pulled down into
the dark abyss, her head hit the pavement. The only thing she could hear as she slipped away was that
sweet, gentle voice calling, “Jezebel, Jezebel, sweet Jezebel.”
______________
As the rain fell, which is a rarity
in Tucson, Arizona, the heavens opened up as the Lord cried for another one of
his fallen children. The King was
sitting on his throne calling out to his precious daughter, though she had long
ago learned to ignore his voice. His father came to him and laid a mighty hand
on his shoulder. “Patience my son.
My grace is enough for her. All in due time.” The King watched as one of his
strong messengers held Jezebel’s unconscious body in his protective arms.
_______________
Deep below the surface of the earth
in a place of perpetual darkness, a celebration was taking place. “Well done”,
said the leader to his mignons. The leader resembled a beast with patches of
fur missing, green eyes that glowed and spit constantly dribbling out of his
mouth. He was an ugly creature and
his own servants cowered in his presence. “Yes”, replied Chardris “she is
believing the lies. Victory is
ours!” The leader growled as he pounced toward the unsuspecting demon. “We do
not use that word here!” he snarled. “How many times must I tell you? I hate the word victory. Leave my
presence immediately, there are more to steal, kill and destroy, so get to
work.”
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