Desolation: Through God's Eyes

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Desolation: Through God's Eyes

Post by Unit7 on Tue May 24, 2011 2:05 pm

So recently I have been debating over what I should rewrite. I thought of rewriting The Black Cat, Becoming Dead, The Blood Temple, and various other things. Then while looking through my email I noticed I had recieved a new author favorite for The Budding Rose(I had completely forgot about that and didn't realize how far I had gotten) but then I looked at my other stories and I realized I should rewrite Gentle Acres. I had always been rather proud of that story. But I had left some major plot holes and things that didn't make sense. Which made me kinda sad. However I am still rather proud of Desolation. Though I believe a few tense issues. Oh well. It also served as a bit of a prequel story for Gentle Acres.


Desolation.

I stood outside the door, but I knew everything that was happening in there. I took a deep breath, savoring everything that it was. I wish I could say it would surprise me as to how brilliant the whole thing was, to be able to breath. I couldn't. I was humbled though.

Everything in existence swam through my mind, no not my mind. My very being. I knew the past and every event that had ever happened, and I knew the present just as well. A cockroach scurrying across the floor a thousand miles away. I was aware of it.

There was one aspect, I was never clear on. The future. I can stand here and tell you every outcome of every situation that may arise. What if Joan decided not to go with Ramsey to the Semi-Formal? A billion paths in life would have ceased, and a billion more would be created. At the cost of several innocent students. What if Joan had done something differently? Perhaps one of those choices, Ramsey would never have been expelled. I can only know the paths, not which life will choose.

Here I am again, at the cross paths. Joan now sits beyond this door in pain. Both physically and spiritually. I can feel it brighter then any of my creations. Her pain... could it almost be unbearable? What kind of all knowing, all powerful deity am I? But she isn't the only creature in that room thats in pain. Not by a long shot.

Will. I have always been proud of that one. He walks a dangerous line. But he, like his daughter, are in pain. His pain has spanned over decades. But this avenue of the future, I can see clearly and know perfectly. His pain will end, and he will find bliss. For now, he must suffer. Desolation. Such a cruel thing, yet something thats needed. Helen is right though, it will end and again you will feel my presence.

Helen. Her perception of me is... unflattering to say the least. To be vain is a terrible thing. She, like many, believe the harm that befalls their loved ones are punishment by me. Free Will, such a beautiful thing. The world is like a pond and free will is a pebble. When free will was given, I threw the pebble. It pains me to know that people have used Free Will to harm others, but it is their choice. I am merely the whipping boy for the people to put blame on.

"You were open today," I whisper, leaning against a wall outside Joan's room. I watch the hospital, like I watch the world. I can see everything in my minds eye. But my attention is focused on a single room. I suppose as a benevolent deity, I shouldn't pick favorites. But Joan is different. I love everyone the same, but unlike her father, desolation must end soon. She finds me so frustrating. When she is angry, I feel it so vividly. When she is sad, I mourn in the cosmos just as fiercely. When she is happy... I can radiate joy. But its not because of me I hope her desolation ends fast, the world will need her. I can only point people in the right direction, its up to them to take the sign. I just hope she takes one of the paths of the future, with me by her side.

They are talking. I can hear them just as clearly as if I were at the edge of the universe. If they were a simple microbe. Helen is trying to explain Consolation, and Desolation. Will, who truly wishes to believe, is struggling with it.

"He isn't real," Joan whispers. Her pain and confusion is so terrible. For an instant, I want to flee. If only I could. Her parents are confused.

"What honey?" Helen asks sweetly, in that perfected concerned mother voice.

"You're talking about god. He isn't real."Joan says simply. For a brief moment, her pain and suffering blankets everything else. Then slowly the rest of the world's suffering comes back, and then its joy. All of it is like a stew. All of it is present. I can feel all the joy, suffering, and anger in this world. But when one of my chosen, Joan for instance, feels incredible spiritual pain. It obliterates all else for a brief second.

"You get some sleep now," Helen whispers as Joan turns on her side. Helen's discomfort, her wanting accept me wavers. She feels uncertain. She hadn't been aware of her daughters interest in me. Now she senses that I had been a part of her belief system. But now that her belief has evaporated, Helen's is suffering.

I wait there. Several doctors pass me by, neither questioning my presence. When Helen and Will finally take to sleep. I walk right into the room. Her parents are curled together in a lovers embrace. I glance at them, not really needing to, and I am happy they have found each other. I towered over Joan's sleeping body. Her chest slowly rising and falling as she breaths. I place my thumb on her forehead, and slowly pulls it across it. Her body is hot, the fever has yet to break.

She was dreaming. She was laying in her Hospital bed with me standing over her.

"Your not real," Joan shouts. Her face is twisted with anger, confusion, and betrayal.

"I am sorry you have to endure this," I replied.

"Leave, your not real. I imagined you!" Joan begs. Again I feel her pain wash over me. But my face remains stoic.

"Then forget me," I said.

"What?" Joan said bewildered.

"You need to forget me Joan," I smiled a little, "for now accept what the Doctors tell you. I am the result of the Lyme Disease. Can you do that Joan? Can you forget about me?"

"Already forgetting," Joan said, her strength left her. My face returns to its stoic self. Wishing this could have happened differently.

"There will come a day when Desolation will end," I turn my back on her. "for now, I will only be a feint memory. That is if you accept this task." I walked away now, not needing to hear her reply. I gave her my trademark wave goodbye and left her dream. Her mind now slowly accepting me as a delusion brought on by Lyme Disease. Forgetting my various forms. Only her subconscious will know.

As I left the dream, I was still standing over Joan. Her parents having their own dreams. I turn around, and walk out the door. Hoping that someday soon Joan's time of desolation will end. The world could still use her help.

I walked out of the hospital, sucking the night's airs into my lungs.

Perhaps some yard work will ease my mind.


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Sometimes, late at night, I sit here and I wonder. The things I wonder vary from night to night. Sometimes I wonder about the stars and other nights I wonder about what tomorrow will be like. But recently I have been wondering what my life would have been like without you...-Samantha Greene
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