Dearly Beloved

A small girl age 8, wearing a white nightgown, wandered through a drying cornfield beyond the period of light. Carcasses of nature left to rot. A boy much older than her was following close behind. A good friend, unsure of their path or reason. He asked continuously where they were going. She kept telling him they were going somewhere safe. Into the indistinguishable lines of a child's imagination and a grown man's disappointments. She walked with the confidence to find Heaven's lights. A joy so precious and easily stolen as she walked barefoot, without fear or shame.

When she turned back around, she peaked a glance at her footprints in the mud.
She saw men calling her by the name of Lucifer's child.
False angels reaching for her ear to whisper, "You are dead".

She saw pills mixed in with the dirt. They grew into weeds, too fast for her to catch on without shock.
Chunks of broken plywood tore through the wet soil.
She could hear the sounds of clattering nails in glass jars.
She saw the basement, the ice and blood under the fingernails left in her old cage.
Running faster did not get her any closer, the stalks of corn looming over her in the dark made it easy for the memories to brush up against her neck.

She asked herself, "Why me?". In her head a response, "So it wouldn't have to be anyone else".
More whispers all at once, making it hard to distinguish one voice from another.

"You're a liar".
"Animal".
"You can trust me".
"It's your fault they're dying".
"If you tell anyone, they'll take you away".
"I love you".

Someone called her name from a distance. The whispers stopped, the air silenced.
She made her way to the edge of the field. A rusty pick-up truck sat parked across a road of gravel, beneath a dusty street lamp.
Opening the front door, a man looked down at the child. His right hand held a gun to the man in the passenger's seat. He told her to get in the backseat with the other girl. The boy that was once lost had caught up, running towards the truck. The driver yelled out to him, if he follows then she will die again. He drove farther out, and stopped in the middle of the road.

He drove to the opposite side of the cornfield, took the child from the backseat and dragged her with little needed force back into the maze. From her view, they had stopped directly beneath the moon. His filthy hands held onto her tightly as he stuck a needle into her arm. Her surroundings twirled and laughed, her lungs closed up.

He dirtied her nightgown, she bled into the dirt. Her blood would seep through and kill any form of life beneath them. Nature's memorial for her cleanliness. There was no air, no softness beyond the contours of her empty face before he maimed it. In that moment she found the lights of Heaven she was looking for.