Chapter 4

Heart Surgery

2.20.2005
1:30 pm

Joy. Excitement. Fulfillment. This is everything we ever wanted, thought both as one. Happy sadness. Tears filled their eyes as they sat in the office waiting for the lady they had spoken with two hours earlier. The door knob turned and their hearts suddenly became a elevator and hit the top floor within point-zero-two seconds.

The lady stepped into the room. Her hair was touched with wisdom, and speckled with brown and grey hairs as well. Her face was aged though it had gone though the process delicately. She looks to be decades younger then she actually was. She had a smile on her face, and a glow to her complexion that wasn't obtainable without the use of makeup. This was the glow of true happiness, who wouldn't be happy if you gave parents what they long to have the most . . . children. She was more beautiful then a model, and she was seventy-six. She looked to be not a day over thirty-six. She filled the room with a joy that warmed your heart and your soul.

Someone who would embrace you with a hug, come home with you, and call you two, "Mom" and "Dad", oh the joy those words could bring to your soul . . . yet they could still bring unbearable heartache.

~

The envelope was addressed to the orphanage. The label was addressed with the most delicate process. The typed portion crafted with an ancient typewriter. The words were without mistake, the label placed squarely enough that the human eye couldn't see any error. This was sent by a couple with pains for children, they had carefully crafted the letter together whereras most other couples didn't. Not that she didn't like the applications, which were accumulated together in the most slipshod manner. She could tell the longing for children in any letter, whether they took on the facade of an ancient text or a letter sealed by royalty.

They had a need, she had the answer. She had a need, they had the answer. She took the letter opener in her hand, and delicately slid it across the sealed flap at the top in one quick and easy motion. She had done these thousands of times throughout the decade of her work. Some she could meet their needs, other she had to reject. This was the only thing she hated about her job.

Before lifting the application out of the envelope, she looked at the front one more time, as a smile crossed her face:

Little Hope's Foundation

Attn: Ms. Eliana Greison King

9745 Black Well Drive

Fort Dodge, IA 50501

The paper was easily accessed from the envelope. She took it out and unfolded the trifolded paper. The letter had the applicants address in the top right hand corner of the typed portion of the application. They included a cover letter and resume of each parents background. They were an exemplary couple, the perfect adoptive parents.

Wife opened a children's care center five years ago, and Husband was a children's advocate for the county. Two months after they married, they opted to be Foster parents, now they wanted children to call their own. Not that they hadn't treated each foster child as their own. Wife was physically unable to bare children, so they wanted to adopt a child. They specifically wanted a girl, not a boy. That was between the ages of three to five. They had one strange specification, which was that the child actually looked like she belong in the family. Wife wanted a blond with blue eyes, and adorable figure. Husband didn't really care.

She had the perfect child. Not exactly what Wife wanted but exactly what they needed.

She picked up the phone and called the number, which was listed below their address. Wife picked up, "Hallo?"

"Hello. This' Eliana King from Little Hope's Foundation . . ."

"Oh my goodness, that was a quick reply. Did we get accepted already? I can't believe you called already. I'm just about speechless, yet about drawn to tears at the same time. Thanks for getting back with us so soon," Wife continue to speak in the I'm-so-excited tone for about two minutes straight, until she used up all the oxygen in her lungs and couldn't possibly go on explaining her blissful state. Gasp.

Eliana finally got her disappointing words in. "I'm sorry Miss but you have not been approved yet, but don't give up hope. I'm sure you will get approved, you two have great references, I can't imagine why you wouldn't get approved. Just keep praying and I'm sure God will vouch for you two. I was just calling to see if you and your husband would have time this week to come in and see the great child I have personally picked out for you?"

"Oh my, would we ever!!! Could we do it later today?"

"Sure, just name the time."

"Would one-thirty work?"

"Sure thing, Honey. See you then, can't wait to meet you two!"

~

"Hello," said Eliana.

Wife could no longer hold back the levee of sorrow the was collecting at the edges of her portals. A tear streamed down. It was a gradual consummation of the dryness on her check, as Eliana consumed the hurt and loneliness of her heart.

Wife ran to Eliana and greeted her with her embrace. Her tears rested on Eliana's shoulder. After a few minutes, Wife allowed Mrs. King to breathe and eventually her brain was re-oxygenated.

Husband arose and strolled over to Eliana. He grasped her hand in a firm gesture of greeting, "Hello, the name W-Ole, just call me Ace, James, Ace is what everyone calls me." He rolled his eyes thinking of the stupid name that his father had thought up for him, he couldn't image what his father was thinking about when he named him. Or maybe he was high or drunk? Who knows. "Oh, and this fine woman I call my Wife is Kris, short for Kristen."

"Great to meet you, Ace JAMES, Ace. Kris, how 'bout you take a burden off and take a seat, please," she motioned her arm toward the comforting chairs, they apply practically no pressure on the cushion of your body. "The girl, I have personally chosen for you, will come in soon. She was getting dressed in her best garments."

Kris wiped her tears and blew her nose on a tissue, she had located in a box on Eliana's desk. She sniffed and finally spoke, "His name is really Wall . . ."

"Sshhhh," she was interrupted by Ace. "Don't tell her like you tell everyone else, the name is Stupid. I mean my name's not stupid but it's a dumb name. Just please let me seem cool or sweet or whatever the kid's say these days, and DON'T tell." He had even furnished the floor with his knees to beg her to not tell. "Please?"

Oh, the lame puppy eyed long-winded pleeese. How it melts my heart, sometimes! Not falling for it this time. Some one needs to brush the dust off this old kite and fly it. I can't image why, I married such a kine-to-the-cool fellow.

"I can't believe you actually acknowledged his lame James Bond imitation. No one, and I mean no one has even picked up on it, since well some crazy woman, such as myself, fell for his pathetic "hip" charm and his cunning smile. Really you don't have to be so kind, I mean look at what it's gotten me because I acknowledged it. He might look like a man on the outside but on the inside he is secretly hoping to be acknowledged as Superman or James Bond in his case. Well really you can just call him a Headcase for all I care. But his name is really Wallace."

"D'oh. Man, what's come over you, did someone force feed you soured curds? OK, I really don't know what curds are but it sounded good. Don't worry this is really just us kidding around, and pulling your leg."

"Don't you wish. Could you just grow up for a minute?"

Kris sat starring at the ceiling looking seriously angry. Ace sat there staring at her, then looking at Eliana with her much surprised look, her eyes looked like they were going to pop out of there sockets. Ace lipped her a message, I really don't know what the matter with her is. She isn't usually like this.

"Well, let's lighten the mood a little for the kid," Eliana suggested, scratching her head in confusion. She thought this was the perfect family. Maybe she had judged a little off, once in all her life. They sat not speaking for quite some time.

"HAH," loudly broke the silence. "Got you all. And you can blame Ace for this little charades game. He is always telling people that I can't be cool or ever take time for fun or games."

"Thank God, you had me scared the for a moment," said the observing in unison.

"You two really though I was serious?" She busted out in laughter.

"How about we bring in the precious little one? And please no more heart attack catalyst, please? I thought I was going to drop over dead there for a little while with how you were talking about him."

"Uh, Sorry."

"Please. Come in, honey." yelled Eliana in a tender sweet tone.

The door creaked open, and someone stepped in. Little footsteps reverberated through the air. The future parents-to-be turned around slowly and were astounded by the beauty surrounding the subject standing before them. She had a natural glow of beauty. Smiles inched across their faces, a diligent parade of happiness, she was perfect. She was blond with brown eyes, beauty was her strong suit. A cute disposition settled her body. Most of all she had his nose, and her face. She was the completion of their family.

The orphan tilted her head in humility, after a moment of them staring down at her beauty. Darkness covered her beauty though sadness covered her facade. She was broken and Kris would fix her, or so she hoped.

"She's perfect, " they said in unison.

For the rest of the day, they played with her, talked to her about everything, spent time with her, took her out to a fancy restaurant with permission from Mrs. King, and finally folded her in the thin comforts of the orphanage's bed. They felt sorry about how much they had and how nice it was, and how all the orphans were content just to have what they did, not one complaint from one of them.

They went to shut the door to her room, a voice broke the silence, it was a new voice they were unfamiliar with. "Please, come back. Please, I need to tell you something. Please, I need help."

They soon figured out that it was the orphan they had spent the day with. She had not said a word all day. The words brought wetness to their forefronts and slowly slipped down Wife's cheek, Husband quickly batted it back.

They walked back in and sat on the bed, "Honey, tell us what's on your mind."

Wife could barely get the words past the mound in her throat.

The orphan explain her life to them. That she had been raped by her father after he had killed her mother, then turned the gun on himself in the aftermath of doing the deeds. She went on to tell them that she had been switch from one set of parents to another because of the night terrors she experienced from witnessing the "bad things" her father had done. They, she quoted their heartless words, said, "We just can't take the screaming, and the caring that this child needs is unobtainable. We didn't sign up for this! We don't want her anymore. We can't stand her!"

That's a terrible thing to hear from someone that is supposed to love and care for you, no wonder she has so much pain. Who could deal with what she saw at age six, I don't think I could handle it at the age of eighteen make that at any age, thought Kris.

"And . . ." she burst into tear.

"Please tell us," they said again in unison. "We want to help you."

"I can't. He said he would kill me, he said it would hurt more next time, He said he would make me bleed like a p . . . pi . . . pig."

Kris and Ace looked at each other shocked by the words coming out of this dear little one.

How could all of these terrible things happen with a loving God in existence? Because he doesn't exist! I have been frustrated with faith since, well I can't even remember a time that I wasn't! How do You allow all this suffering, thought Ace.

"Tell me I will ki . . . I'm a lawyer and I can help you, but you have to tell me who."

"I can't . . . I just can't." Fear gripped her mind and wasn't letting go.

Ace took her in his I'll-be-your-shield grasp, "I will never let him hurt you again. Listen to me once you tell me, we, my wife and I, will go talk with Mrs. King and get you out of her tonight, under protection of the court. I'm calling a judge to send a . . . well to put it in a way you will understand honey . . . it will keep you safe. But you have to tell me."

"The uh, the um, the gardener and the chef both . . . they both uh," she burst into tears. He took her in his arms again, this time she recoiled at the thought of a man touching her again. She had jumped the first time he held her too but Ace hadn't noticed it. This time it was noticeable, Kris had even see it.

"They raped me."

Chapter 3

Blood

12.2.2004
11.30 pm

Bright light flashed through the night's sky. The little girl's mind flashed to that moment when the flash blinded, the sound deafened, and the grey matter splattered.

Julie's bed hugged her as she flew under the covers and dug into the bed. She was underneath the covers, hiding herself from the scary dark world that was around her.

She was broken on the inside; no one could understand what she had gone through. Everyone she talked to seemed to think they knew what she was going through; the truth was they didn't know the half of it. To be forced to lay there by the brutal force of your loved one, they didn't know that unless they had encountered the situation before.

Something secret taken, how could it ever come to this, she thought. I must have brought it on myself, I must have been bad, real bad to get this punishment.

How could anyone accept me? Who could ever protect me?

As she pondered the destruction that had occurred, her mind wandered deep into darkness.

~

Lights flashed. Colors swirled. Voices faded. Darkness became light. Light became color. Color became pictures. Pictures became scenes. Scenes became people. People became voices. Voices became memories of the subconscious, dreams.

A girl was in the mist of darkness, she was tucked to her knees. Darker shadows lined the darkness around her; she was trapped. The dark figures pounced on her, then a bright light flashed into the darkness, and the figures exploded. A bright glowing figure, floated to her, she had wings! The figure lifted the girl's chin, "Fear not for I am with you. He will never fail you. She will never forget you. Blood is the connection. Blood is the key. Blood is the answer. Only His blood will save. Blood is the hope, mine is your guide."

The figure's light grew dim, and her features grew faint. "I love you!" The presence of the winged had left.

~

"Nooo, mom don't leave me."

She wept in her world, the sphere she had placed around herself, her own haven.

The figure watched and listened as the child sat up and cried out, the sight brought weakness to her eyes, she couldn't help her, she couldn't calm or sooth her like she wanted to.

~

Demi's eyes popped wide, I'm losing it.

Sleep came back fast. But the next morning she wouldn't forget the spectacular visions of gilded figures in the night aiding her Beloved.

~

Six Years Later
12.2.2010

The razor glistened in the light. The hotel room was large, fully stocked and expensive. Light beams pierced through the crystalline glass. Bright beams reflected off the metal razor decorated in the middle with a cut out fancy design. Tape covered the other sharpened surface, to keep the instrument from being dangerous to the human touch.

The girl used the knife to cut through her fatal layers. She slowly and cautiously slid the blade to make the incision on her wrist. Blood pooled to the surface.

Hope had come.

~

Ouch. The woman grasped her wrist. The pain was a burning sensation, yet complete euphoria laced over the pain. The pleasure was addicting.

More, More, I must feel it more.

She lost herself to the moment of pleasure, finally she pulled herself together.

"What is your name?"

"Demi."

"What is your occupation?"

"A Children's Advocate."

"Good, now get back to helping the poor children."

She took the job to ease the pain of not being able to cope with the reality that she didn't have a child.

Demi had experienced moments like this for the past couple months, and what was worse was scars showed the world that she cuts, even though a razor had never touched her skin. Linda, her boss, saw the scars the night after the first addictive moment; she was forced to go through a month of therapy or lose her job.

The scars still remained and more kept coming.

~

Blood covered the floor beneath the girl laying on the floor. Julie's eyes fluttered open. The vision of red covered her vision of sight.

I should be dead. I surely cut deep enough this time.

She composed enough strength to lift the arm to her eye level. The miracle replaced the vision of blood, just as it had happened the past nine attempts to leave this world behind her. Not a sign of a razor piercing her flesh could be seen, the wound was gone.

The blood was the only evidence that the self-inflicted wound had in fact occurred.

Hope was all there was left.

Chapter 2

Transfused

9.15.2004
1:45 am

From the shattered glass doors and the twisted metal frame to the back wall embellished by the ambulance, the detritus and blood painted the floor of the ER. Now an extension of the back wall, the emergency vehicle produced the most red-paint. The nurses and interns checked for survivors, through the twisted, battered, broken, tossed, wrapped-around-a-column bodies. A fire caused by the ambulance caused an explosion, which summoned immediate response from other hospital personnel.

Nineteen out of twenty ER patients and personnel had died immediately. The last died a slow painful death after an IV pole slammed through her right leg and came out near the hip, the explosion had turned the rod into a spear, piercing flesh and shattering through the bone.

The emergency personnel flattened on impact. They opened the doors of the demolished vehicle. A small stained red body tossed on the floor of the small lab. The doctors immediately called for help, they were scared to move her because of the impact. There was no telling how that could have further injured her. A trauma surgeon ran into the ER and screamed for people.

"There's a women. We need help, stat."

Two of the nurses, one male and one female, were trying not to get in the way, quickly ran for the huge hole in the wall.

"You," she yelled and pointed to the male. "Help me lift her onto the gurney. You," she jutted her finger at the female. "Check her vitals, and you know to do the usual checks, just do it. Ready," She asked the male.

"Yes!"

"One, Two, Three. Lift."

They lifted her weakened life state onto the medical apparatus. Quickly, efficiently, and carefully they wheeled her in through the front entrance, to the elevator, and up to the second floor. They sped out of the elevator and quickly took a left in the hallway, headed down the hallway to the next turn. They took it sharply, the body rolled, the female nurse stabilized the body.

"Whew, that was close!"

They ran down the hall and slammed into the operating rooms swinging doors. There was already a small girl's body on the other operating table. As fast as they could, they transferred the adult body to the second operating table through the second doors, a conjoined operating room, with enough room for people to pass through without being a hindrance to the other team.

Some of the team working on the girl went with the three transporting the adult. The doctor rushed into the room and started immediately. The trauma surgeon helped double the team, speed, and efficiency. They were here to save lives not to prove to the interns that they were the best, but there to actually be a miracle in somebody's life.

"We need blood."

The demand came from both rooms. Luckily, both females had the same blood type.

"We just ran out of that blood type and o positive last night around 12:30 and the next shipment will not be shipped till tomorrow. Do you want me to call the blood bank and have them rush it over?"

"No, there's no time. That would take about two hours longer then when we need it. We need blood and we need it now."

"We just brought a body into the morgue that has the same blood type, blood's still flowing."

"That won't work. Blood needs to be tested extensively before it's used on patients."

"We just found her chart. She donated blood a week and a half ago to the hospital's blood drive, and the test results came back clean."

"Good. Then get it up here stat. Go." The personnel was gone before he could finish, he knew what he had to do. "Let's hope that blood is compatible, and clean. I'm putting my career on the line, if we don't use that blood, then she's going to die."

~

Two hours and a whole body's blood gone, both were finally out of the operating room into the recovery room.

~

The girl woke first. They moved her into a room. It would be days till she would be released.

~

Two hours after the girl had been moved, the women still had not awakened.

"Her body must be having trouble restarting," stated the doctor. "It's hard to tell how long she was out their bleeding out from that glass fragment. Just to be safe we should go ahead as a precaution and put her into a drug induced coma."

The nurse brought the drugs in to the doctor.

"Oh, Sweet Jesus," she gasped as she said it. "Her husband just died about two hours ago, her name is . . ."

The doctor cut her off, "We know she had her ID in her back pocket. Demi."

~

Two Months Later

11.20.2004

Her eyes opened to a light she hadn't seen for a while. Blinding, she quickly dove off the bed and took cover. As she did the cords that we're attached to her arms and other body parts ripped out, all but the catheter because it was mounted on the side of the bed that she had leaped off. It did give a little tug from being caught on the side of the bed. The ripped out wires and cords had triggered an alarm.

Nurses rushed in. It took about fifteen minutes to get her calmed down. She motioned to them that she needed a drink by demonstrating to them with her hand how you would drink from a cup.

They brought her ice chips.

The first question the nurses were sure was going to be, "Where's my husband?"

The women got a puzzled look on her face like she was trying to conclude something, or think of something long forgotten.

She looked at the nurse that was helping her now, and opened her dry lips.

"What did you say, honey," after a while her brain made the missing links and she answered her question. "Honey, you don't have one."

"WHERE'S MY DAUGHTER. Where's my daughter. I have one! WHERE'S MY DAUGHTER!"

She went crazy, and started tossing hospital room inventory around the room and at the nurses. One nurse heard the screaming and hurried and retrieved a syringe and a bottle from the drawer behind the crazy lady. She walked up behind the patient and carefully gave her a shot in the neck.

"Where's m . . . my daugh . . . daughter?"

She finally got out before fading to darkness on the floor.

"Who's going to tell her she probably dreamed having a daughter while in her coma, and tell her that her . . . her husband died?"

"I think it would be best if we put her on suicide watch, and call a shrink for when she wakes up. She's going to need a professional to tell her and help her through this difficult time. I can only imagine the pain that she is going to be going through."

Chapter 1

DOA

9.14.2004
11:30 pm

"Nine-one-one. What is the address of your emergency," stated the dispatcher. The phone line was silent. "Hello, what is the address of your emergency?"

The little voice came on the phone, the high pitch, the shaky voice, the I-am-scared-can-you-please-help voice stated her address for the dispatcher. The dispatcher could tell from the voice that this was a little child, girl-to be specific.

Poor thing thought the dispatcher.

"What is the nature of your emergency?"

"My dad . . . really mad . . . home . . . my mom . . . he hurt . . . her blood . . . it's every where . . . send help . . . please . . . I gotta hide . . . I . . . he's . . . back!"

The dispatchers eyes filled with liquid, as she contacted the local emergency response , and police departments. Oh, please. Let her be OK!

~

The door shattered as the foot went threw the wood, splinters flying everywhere, armed bodies ran through the passage way.

Every room scanned for danger as they past each portal, when they arrived at the room at the very back of the house. The sound reverberated through the house, deafening some of the police officers.

BOOM. The shot rang out.

BOOM. The police burst down the door.

BOOM. The man's body hit the floor.

His hand covered in glistening substance. The wall behind him was covered with blood and fragments of his grey matter. His wife, what they had assumed was his wife from the nine-one-one phone call, lay on the floor. Her blood scattered everywhere, and a knife lay beside her. The pool of blood at her side was smudged. Maybe the husband had knelt beside her and realized what he had done, bloody hand prints painted her cheeks. The scene was a terrible tragedy.

Suddenly the atmosphere was filled with another familiar sound, GASP.

The gasp for air, for life, for the very breath that sustained us. It was towards the back kitchen, it sounded as though it had come from under the sink. Luckily, the cabinet doors were open just enough to know where the sound had come from. The door had blood smears on the outside.

"Stand back."

They opened the cabinet doors.

The girl lay in the cabinet. The scene brought tears to the lead man's eyes, and bile to his throat. The body laid there her dress torn, half dressed, blood covering her neck and abdomen. The EMT checked out her neck, thankfully, her father had just nicked the edge of her neck, and the blood on the shirt was blood from the cut on the neck. They didn't dare check her other injuries. A female doctor would examine her, since she had been raped, she would be scared to death if a male tried to see the damages to her soul, her innocence.

She was in shock.

When they stabilized her on the gurney, they rushed her to the ambulance. They wanted to get her out of there before she became catatonic. She didn't need to see the scene. She had probably been a witness to the death of her mother, father, and the attempted murder of her body and soul.

The ambulance raced down the highway towards the hospital, its siren blasting in the night awakening every sleeping person and telling them that someone was hurt and needed help.

~

"Baby, I'm sorry that it took me dying to open the barriers in our marriage. I wish I could jump up off my death bed take you in my arms, kiss you, and tell you how much I love you. And maybe, if I had the strength, make love to you. HA, look at me a blubbering mess, confessing my undying love for you and all I can try to do is make you happy. I'm sorry I couldn't give you all you needed in our relationship. I wish I could go back, and give you the time that you needed, and deserved, but no I had my life built around my job not you and I see that now and I do really wish I could change that, but I can't, we only get one lifetime to give our love to our loved ones, and hope that we do the right thing. Oh, Demi, if I had only been as wise in my life as I am in my death, I would give you everything! Oh, my side, it hurts! What is wrong with my side? Help, Hun. Help Me. Oh, my side."

She and her tear laced eyes, face, and shirt came over to look at his side; though the shirt had snot and slobbers on it as well. She didn't see anything, so she lifted the cover.

A gasping oh escaped from her lips. The tears flowed down her checks. The stains on his hospital gown were to much for her brain to process, she did the only thing she could do; she let out a heart pounding, blood quickening, adrenaline coursing alert, "AAAHHHH. HELP. Somebody, Help him. HEEELLLPP. NURSE. NURSE."

The nurses ran to her aid.

The wife ran out the room trying to catch something . . . her breath . . . her husband's escaping soul . . . her life . . . sanity . . . peace . . . hope . . . love . . . help . . . cleansing of her heartache. She ran down the hallway, out the automatic doors, out into the down pour.

~

The EMT had called the hospital to explain the case that they were bringing, so they could prepare for their arrival.

They had just took a right-hand turn onto Black Drive, and were about a two blocks from the hospital speeding far past the speed limit, racing against rain, against death, against the clock.

~

"NNNNNNNNNNNOOOOOOO."

The water splashed everywhere. The blood combined with the mud puddle. She lifted her hand to see the jagged edge sticking out the joint of the arm and the hand. The blood poured from her wrist. Her body fell, the water displaced everywhere from the force, the weight, and the speed of her body.

The light . . . go towards the light . . . oh, it is so beautiful . . . come light, come death. I will be with my husband even now . . . oh, how the gates of death do shine.

~

The ambulance had just entered the parking lot. As they speed down towards the ER doors, the lights illuminated on a dark lump in a mud puddle.

"What is that," demanded the driver to the passenger.

"Well, I don't know . . . Oh, my G . . . it's a body. Look at the hands, the head, the hair."

EERIERK. BOOM. The ambulance swerved to miss the body, slid on the slick blacktopped surface, and slammed right into the ER doors. The juggernaut of death broke through the glass sliding doors of the ER and became a crushed ornament on the far brick wall.

Prologue

Struggling

9.15.2004
1:15 am

Her body jutted from side to side as the rain poured over her running soul. The building behind her harbored her dying husband. The building . . . that building . . . a death bed . . . a slaughter house . . . sick . . . disabled . . . dying . . . confused . . . old . . . young . . . dead . . . barren . . . fertile . . . helpless . . . hopeless . . . infected . . . mutilated . . . mutated . . . too-feeble-for-the-atmosphere . . . Still-Born's . . . workers . . . helpers . . . volunteers . . . birth . . . this building was the home for all; all stages of life or death, people who work, people who did everything possible for their patients yet still were punished for their good deeds. Nothing makes sense in this world anymore . . . nothing . . . how could anybody let stuff like this happen? How can anybody make sense of their life in a world spinning into chaos at the speed of light?

She splashed, she slipped, into the puddle of life. She cried out to someone, anyone to help.

"Nnoooo, GOD, you can't . . . you wouldn't . . . please don't . . . I'll do anything for . . . bring life please . . . HELP ME!!!" Her cry out to God would bring men of power to their knees, would soften the very hardest of hearts, make tremble the most emotionally stable. "Please, kill me instead . . . I couldn't possibly go on with my life . . . No hope . . . none at all . . . HELP ME, PPLLLEEASSE. AAAAAHHHH!!!"

She slammed her fists in the puddle of life, as she screamed, pleaded, cried out, demanded that God help her. No not her, him. As her hands hit the jagged bottom, the pit was becoming a puddle of life, the deep red spread out in veins of color away from her hands. The muddy water, was becoming a crimson twisted puddle of her life.

The color filled her vision, it was coming too quickly, what had she done, as she lifted her hands out of the pool of death she saw the large piece jutting out of the side of her hand. She hadn't felt it, hadn't felt a thing, she was numb from the emotional pain overriding her mind. As she looked, the river of life was running from her delicate layers of pale covering, the letters illuminated on the jutting piece of crystal.

She read them, "H.O.S.P.I.T.A.L. Oh, God, help."

With that very last breath, she uttered for help, she fell into the crimson pool of . . . Death. Lights coming quickly towards her illuminated the clear refreshing liquid of life on her body. She was about to be impacted by the . . . Light.

Ha, God gave me a little shimmer of hope. Lord, be merciful please.

With that thought, darkness settled upon her weary soul. Falling, Falling, who can stop me, who can help me, is the answer out there somewhere? Yes, no one.