Tales of Light

NEMESIS

𝗡𝗘𝗠𝗘𝗦𝗜𝗦

Trigger warning: Mentions of rape and suicidal thoughts. (PS: There's light at the end of the darkest tunnel)

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The nemesis began that woeful night when robbers raided your house, shot your father in the leg and raped you while your poor father writhed and cried in agony. Your mother had travelled the day before, thankfully; she was spared the trauma of witnessing all of this happening. Still, it didn't stop her hysteria when she heard the news and came rushing to meet you at the hospital the next day.

Before then, life was perfect. You had a happy family—faithful God-followers with all round blessings as proof.
Now, you were broken; your father, shattered. In the coming days, you understood the burden of guilt he bore as he slugged around in his wheelchair, unable to look into your eyes.

It seemed your mother withdrew even deeper into her shell when the gravity of the tragic occurrence became stark. You wondered if she'd ever be able to forgive you, forgive your father, forgive herself, forgive God... Bitterness and melancholy became the perpetual atmosphere in the house.

Thankfully, you were spared the agony of an STD and an unwanted pregnancy, so said the test results.

But your neighbours began to peep and mutter. You didn't have the strength to refute their speculations.
To your dismay, roughly twelve weeks after the robbers invaded your house, the world tilted upside down as you found out that the pregnancy tests were defective. You had actually taken in. The regular bouts of nausea and headaches now made sense.
Since you were now three months in, it was too late to get an evacuation of your uterus.

Keeping this secret would soon be impossible. You purposely blocked out the pseudo-sympathy that the women from the church came to supply. You knew they only wanted to see for themselves and perhaps have evidence to corroborate their suspicions about you. Suspicions that were true.

Even before the knowledge of your pregnancy became common knowledge, you were an abomination—the unfortunate girl who was defiled by thugs. All your former friends abandoned you, based on their parents' vehement instructions. You didn't blame them. You'd have done the same had you been a parent.

Out of desperation to avoid being a burden and a plague, you were forced to run away from home. And it had to be to somewhere no one knew you. Dreams of a brilliant future shattered, you took a long distance train to the suburbs and lodged in a dingy motel. After weeks of rationing your tiny funds, you managed to secure a job as a sales attendant in the mini mall of a nearby gas station.

Every night, you fought insomnia. And whenever you managed to get a wink of sleep due to exhaustion, you'd fight recurring nightmares of that night when you were so violently molested.

Then came the voices, nagging voices in your head, voices you tried unsuccessfully to block out.
'You're no good,' they whispered incessantly, 'You're an utter waste of space. No one cares about you. No one bothered to look for you. They were all happy to be rid of you.'

You were slowly drowning, gasping for air, hoping someone out there would see past the facade you put up, past the plastic smile mask you had to wear as you attended to different customers at the mini mall.
What disturbed you most was the fact that behind every iris, you saw a similar or even more acute level of inner agony and turmoil, stifled in. There was a grave story hidden behind every eye.

Why was there so much pain in the world? Why hadn't God intervened? Why had he not prevented all that evil from happening? You never got answers no matter how many times your heart screamed to the heavens.

One day as you went through the routine day's job, a non-customer walks in. You suspected he was a passing traveller. His accent and naivety about what brand of car oil to get made you curious. His gaze was like a magnet, pulling you in. His voice was like hot chocolate, warm and familiar.
Ever since the incident, men made you uncomfortable especially if they began to make suggestive moves. But he was not making suggestive moves. In fact, he radiated an atmosphere of grace and peace, something that was now a vague memory for you. 

He introduced himself as Ethan and said he was here to get travel supplies. His small talk kneaded out the tension from your shoulders and you found yourself in a smooth conversation with this enigmatic man.
Out of the blues, Ethan smoothly asked you a question that hit you like a thunderbolt.

"Why are you running away from the One who is able to heal you completely?"

You froze, shocked that he was able to hit the nail on the head so accurately. Or was this just random chance?

"What do you mean?" you rasped.

His voice softened and he spoke like he knew and could relate to your pain.
"It's easy to blame God for all the evil that happens in the world. It's the natural impulse. But what if He didn't want it to happen? What if He is grieving alongside you? What if He is right near you, with open arms, waiting for you to run back to Him so He can comfort you and heal your hurting heart?"

Before you knew it, the waterfall dam broke and you were sobbing so hard you crumbled on the marble floor of the mall. It was a good thing no other customer or even your boss was in here to witness your breakdown. It was a good thing this random man came along when he did because, if not, the Sniper you'd stolen from the shelf and snuck into your bag would have been the last thing you tasted before your sleep would meld into the oblivion of death. You had taken time to rationalize your decision to end it. It wasn't selfish. You'd be doing the unborn child a huge favour by not allowing him to emerge to witness and endure the cruelty of the world. You'd  be free from the barrage of mental torment the voices caused you.
Although you were scared because of the tales of hell you'd heard in Sunday School as a teenager, you were resolute. Nothing could be worse that this black hole of nemesis that was swirling around you.

But now, you realised you wanted to live, to have a second chance at a clean slate. You realised that you'd been pointlessly running away from God. And now, he had chased hard after you like a relentless lover and had caught up with you. The knowledge soothed your scars.

When you gathered yourself together and raised your head to thank Ethan, you were positively shocked that the mall was empty.

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I know many people will somehow be able to relate with this story. Many are broken💔 and need healing❤️‍🩹. I pray you'll find God and find peace. 🫂

I'm still wondering how the simple prompt to encourage someone escalated to this...😅🥺 Probably God needed to reach out to someone.

Anyways, leave those nice votes and comments. Thanks so much for reading. 😁