Her choice now. Two paths before her.
One, where she was stretched out dying in her parents living room. All possible concepts of pain waiting eagerly to welcome her.
A blissful garden in a land not so far away. Filled with joyous sunlight and few if any burdens. But abandoned and alone to her mind. The decision was never difficult in reaching.
She chose attachment, she chose companionship. Even though the last of her family was probably dying.
Her resurgence into the world and her body was one of agony. The promise of pain delivered by whoever or whatever put this all into motion.
The living room was abandoned, her mother still dead. But her father was still there. She could sense it rather than see it. He was not moving, not even breathing, but the life inside him shone at her on unimaginable levels. She willed her body to move, placing one hand firmly on the knife wound. To reassert her feeling that her father was alive she lay a finger gently on the side of his neck, feeling for the pulse. It was there, and now she could do what she intended.
Her intension was simple, call for help and then find them. Her phone was just down the hall in her room. She treaded cautiously keeping an eye out for the assailants. They were nowhere to be seen or heard.
Her phone display concluded that her battery was still in working order. At least to place a call. She dialed the emergency services and it was as if a weight was lifted from her chest. Her father would be all right, he only had to hold on a while longer.
After she reported her situation and whereabouts, she made her way to her parents’ room. As expected, the intruders had tried to open her father’s safe, but for some reason they had failed. She went over and smartly inserted the code. The safe swung open revealing a respectable arsenal. She went for the double gauge, loading it and thinking about all the times she and her father went shooting out on the brook. She felt a surge of gratefulness at those times because it would enable her to get them. But she also felt a deep sadness to her core, things would never be the same.
She shrugged it off and with the loaded gun made her way through the kitchen out towards the back yard. They came from the fields; she had a faint memory of seeing them run across the neatly kept lawn just beyond where modern day neat humanity merged with the wilderness.
In the far reaches of her mind an alarm went off as she stepped outside. She was bleeding a lot. Her life force was tumbling to the ground more and more as she moved. But that did not bother her. Why would it? When she knew for a fact that there was life after death? All the speculation throughout the ages had been proven to her only a short while ago. If she died here, she would go on living. But they would not, they would die with the believe that they might go to hell or cease to exist. Who cared about their spiritual inclinations anyway?
As she rounded the side of the house, she walked into a scene she could not have perceived in her wildest dreams.
When her uncle died last year, he was spiteful enough to leave his estranged sibling nothing but a feral dog. A dog that he took to underground dog fights. The kind where the winning animal would go walking off harboring a limb for the rest of his days. The dog which her uncle gladly contributed, completely void from all loving contact would just as soon rip your throat out than look at you.
And this is exactly what happened to the intruders. For some inconceivable reason they had scaled over into the feral dog’s pen and he had torn at them. They had gotten to it, probably stabbed it to death but not before it had had his way with them.
She sat down on the dewed cover grass then; unsure if she should cry or scream.
Wasn’t that the way life always worked out? Right when you were so close to everything you ever wanted; it got away from you. There would be no remorse for her mother then, no fear that her father might have died already. Right then, all she wanted to do was rage in the face of this injustice.
She could have had them, would have followed them to the furthest corners of the earth. She leveled her weapon to the sky and fired off. The sound was deafening in the early morning. It merged with the sirens of oncoming rescue.
A new dawn had arrived, and it had completely shattered the skin of the person she had masqueraded around in her 20 years of life.
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