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Will I Ever Be Free?
Posted by Hannah, Oct 8, 2008. 391 views. ID = 1858
This post was written in 14 minutes.
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 | This post has been awarded 22 stars by 5 readers. |
A crowded room full of rushing people.
They laugh and chatter,
their voices rising above the too-loud speakers,
their faces blurred in their speed to leave the dreaded place
that they fear and hate.
The pain in her broken heart
throbs gently along with the blaring music
and she wonders, "Will I ever be free?"
She falls to the ground in her broken dress,
her short hair and bangs hanging lankly about her face,
moving slightly in a silent and wonderful breeze.
Her face is obscured,
revealing only an artificial smile,
perfected by years of pretended happiness.
Her failed dreams haunt her nights,
as do the monsters in her mind
and in the corners of her vision,
taunting her and teasing her
as she lies alone in the middle of a crowd.
No one knows who she is,
and no one cares,
as they go about their daily lives
as if she wasn't there.
It's not as if they don't see her.
They do.
She's not their burden,
not their failure.
The pain in her broken heart
throbs gently along with the blaring music
and she wonders, "Will I ever be free?"
She pretends to not see them;
to not care that they step around her
and don't think twice about her,
but she hurts inside.
She can't let them know
that she hears them talking of her
and her torn and broken soul.
Her pride and shame refuse to let her
ask for help from those who would only rescue her for Glory,
or for a price.
She doesn't need a Rescuer.
She only needs them to see;
she wants them to care.
She cries out,
trying to make someone, anyone,
hear her in her desperation,
but no one comes.
She stays on protesting knees,
as tears stream down her anguished face,
dripping slowly past her nose and onto her hands,
clasped in a prayerful gesture,
her face bowed, her chin on her chest.
The pain in her broken heart
throbs gently along with the blaring music
and she wonders, "Will I ever be free?"
Rain begins to fall on her head
and she slowly looks up,
her fake smile gone from her face,
replaced by a slight frown of determination.
She closes her eyes
and lifts her hands to the gray and angry sky,
hoping to see the blink of lightning
flaring across the sky like a startled mouse across a floor,
giving herself wholly to the One who can save her.
She tries to stand, but is shackled to the ground.
No matter how she tries,
she cannot break the chains that bind her
to the cold, lonely and forsaken earth.
They finally see her fully,
struggling with her constraints on the floor.
They think they know;
they think they understand;
they never will.
She is a broken tool,
a fallen angel of light that lost her way
and can't find the road that would lead her home.
The pain in her broken heart
pounds deeply along with the blaring music
and she wonders, "Will I ever be free?"
Copyright 2008 Hannah. All rights reserved. FifteenMinutesOfFiction.com has been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work. For permission to reprint this item, please contact the author.
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