Light's End

What faith can remain after God's betrayal? Why live if there is no clear purpose for you in His "GREAT PLAN"? A massacre victim questions if she should continue her life without God.

Light’s End

 

The night had no moon.

 

With her heart and mind open, Vera Doverskaya prayed for God’s blessing.

 

O, Lord, may you quiet the waves of the sea for us to calmly slumber tonight?

 

The floor she sat on trembled.

 

O, Lord, may you gift hope to the world with your brightest light?

 

A thick black smoke covered the whole ship but it was bright - unusually bright.

 

O, Lord, may you bring peace and harmony to us all?

 

Sinister laughter, cracks of skulls, screams of terror - chaos was all around.

 

O, Lord, may you prosper my mother and father with good health?

 

She prayed and prayed, like her life depended on it. Until her mother, Chiara Doverskaya, burst into the room, sweating, breathing heavily, with her life vest on and holding another. Standing up, struggling to find her balance on the shaking floor, Vere asked, “Mama, what… what’s wrong?”

 

Chiara handed Vera an orange life vest. “Put it on!” she spoke fast and clearly, “Abandon ship. Follow me!”

 

They rushed from the sleeping area up towards the deck and Vera had understood she was too young to witness the insidious event transpiring. Time was running out. They would wind up below the Atlantic ocean if each wasted word became wasted seconds, building up to their demise. Her vision was blurred, head spinning, Vera Doverskaya heard the cries of the innocent victims. The sea was red with blood. A Dark Stranger was wreaking havoc, blazing the vessel with his madness. Painful deathblows were struck by the minute. No one to answer the cries for help. The only light shining on the bloodshed was from the fire, causing heatwaves and charred remains of sailors. Raining, the flames still glowed, fueled by destruction.

 

It was a slaughter - a horrific massacre. Oil was spilled everywhere, ignited. One sailor was basked in it, raging and blazing orange and red, giving a loud, harsh, piercing screech. He rushed towards the ocean water.

Another lay on the deck motionlessly. Smoldered, his arms and legs disintegrated into ashes. With seconds to live, he couldn’t speak. Wheezing in pain, he glanced at at Vera’s pale face with tortured eyes.

 

The corpses reeked of death and Vera felt sick, unable to move in the sight of the terrible truth. She stared into the distance, panting vigorously, at the Dark Stranger, savagely punching the captain of the ship. One punch, two punches, three punches, four… again and again - there was no sign of stopping. His hair and beard were wet with blood. His entire body, large, was in flames, face blackened with soot, laughing maniacally, still punching the already-deceased captain.

 

Chiara grabbed Vera’s hand and looked straight into her eyes.

 

“Shush! We have to keep moving quietly or he’ll hear us.”

 

They sneaked towards the emergency evacuation. Upon arrival, all reliable lifeboats were already destroyed: the zodiac, the sailboat. What was left was a circular, fragile and inflatable raft with two paddles. Both mother and daughter jumped onto it. Chiara nervously jerked her knife out to cut the rope and deploy the raft. Right before she finished, she noticed the Dark Stranger standing behind her, aiming his harpoon at Vera. Eyes wide open, she dashed in the way of the projectile. The harpoon pierced through Chiara’s lungs. Her fall created enough force for the weakened rope to rip and let loose of the inflatable raft, falling towards the ocean water.

 

Chiara landed with her face planted on the soft surface of the boat. Vera covered her open mouth, tears racing down her cheeks. Blood was spewing everywhere from Chiara’s wounds. Weeping from the pain deep inside her chest, she wailed, “Row, Vera, row!” Her voice whimpered, as she coughed her own blood and heart heartbeat beginning to stop.

 

Wiping away her tears, Vera rowed and rowed as far as she could. Still ablaze by the raging fire, the Dark Stranger’s hysterical laughter stopped. They were at a safe distance. Luckily, he had no firearms. He could only stand still and gaze menacingly at them from the vessel which was slowly descending to the ocean floor. Even from afar, he looked large and muscular, like a brute who knew no pain and suffering. His face, spiraling into a confusing state, was unclear to Vera. But his appearance was familiar, he was no stranger. D’oeulah? she thought. It cannot be…

 

As Vera and her mother got further and further from the horror, water reached the Dark Stranger’s chin. With only a short glance before his whole body would be covered in the bloodied ocean, Vera recognized the devilish grin. The Dark Stranger’s face reverted to its original state. “Quwi!” she shouted, shocked. He was neither a foreign pirate, nor a terrorist ravaging the “Vivaci” vessel of harmless explorers. His name was D’oeulah Quwi, a member of the crew - one of their own. Vera couldn’t believe it: before the massacre, he was a sincere kind gentleman. A pacifist, unable to harm even a tiny ant. And now he had a body count of a few dozen. What caused him to change? she thought. Why? Why did he do it?

 

The “Vivaci” vessel’s crumbling remains disappeared into the mist.

 

Suddenly, Vera felt a cold sensation on her bare feet. It was water, the freezing water after the burning hot atmosphere on the “Vivaci”. The inflatable vessel was now slowly sinking. The sharp harpoon stuck in Chiara’s chest not only punctured her life vest, but the raft as well. Chiara’s hands tightly gripped the handles to push her body, covering and pressuring the hole, like a bandage. Chiara knew time was running out once more but now it was the clock of her lifespan. The “bandage” was now loose. The vessel was no more - below the surface. Vera floated thanks to the life vest her mother so eagerly put on her, but the punctured life vest of Chiara was rendered useless.

 

“Oh no… No! No! No!” Vera cried and swiftly gripped her mother’s waist, trying to hold her above the water. But the metallic harpoon made Chiara heavy and Vera would descend with her mother down the depths if she wouldn’t let go. “Mama, don’t leave me. Please! Don’t leave me!”

 

“Listen, little strawberry,” Chiara Doverskaya whispered, with her last breath, “Life is a never-ending race with countless hurdles, but to reach the finish line… you have to keep swimming.”

 

The moment had come. The clock of her heartbeat stopped ticking. Chiara scratched Vera’s arms with her nails, knowing she’d never let go of her mother on her own. Vera lost her grip. Chiara’s heartbeat stopped… She sunk without her daughter, towards the unfathomable liquid abyss…

 

Vera lay, as the waves move her body back and forth, floating on the ocean surface and gazing deep into the dark sky. Her throat tightened, taking short breaths. No moonlight, no stars - she howled in the darkness of the dusk.

 

“God! Why?” she cursed, as the gut-wrenching sobs tore through her chest.

 

I believed in you. I prayed for you. I asked for blessing. You answered… answered with cruelty, making my life agonizing and miserable. Vera struggled to stay afloat. What did I do to deserve this?

 

They say, ‘God is benevolent. He is kind. Have faith and he’ll grant your wishes,’ but you aren’t, are you? All I see is suffering and utter annihilation. Violence and addiction. Why was I even born to endure such tragedy? Why did you place me in this crisis?

 

They say, ‘God has a plan for everyone. Trust it, live it, enjoy it.” How can I trust you when you have betrayed me? How can I live it when my life is at risk? How can I enjoy it when my mother is dead and the world is falling apart?

 

O, Lord, if we don’t live according to your plan, then what do we live for?

 

Is all we live for a feeling? A fleeting moment of satisfaction of a desire long burning? To watch the sun set over the west coastal waters, or breathe the mountain's coldest wind. When we beat our greatest enemy, or make our greatest friend.

 

It all takes a second, and it ends in a moment. Before we can recognize, it is deeply engrained in our hippocampus and none other. A moment only useful as a replay - as a stepping stone. Now knowing that nothing can ever surpass that moment, we have summited our highest peak, leaving nothing else to reach for. Our arm extends into the Void with our grasp catching on nothing, as we realize we already hold in our hand our greatest possession.

 

Is all we live for a moment?

 

Each moment's summation is analyzed so deeply in an attempt to extrapolate some greater meaning, when perhaps all we live for is the sake of being alive.

 

What is it that we live for? Is it better to just close our eyes and fall asleep - doze off till nothing could be felt?

 

Vera began to drowse, as her eyes flickered between the darkness of the dusk and the nothingness of the Void.

 

If so, then I will slumber in the eternal darkness, for Death is gateway not to heaven, but to sweet relief.

 

She didn’t resist her drowsiness and finally closed her eyes. Vera warmly embraced the inevitable arrival of Azrael, the Angel of Death, in hopes of never seeing the light of day ever again.

 

2.

 

Brightness. Illumination. Vera’s vision is blurred by the light.

 

Is this heaven? she wondered. Am I… Am I dead?

 

The luminescence faded away, she could see the brilliance of the stars and the radiance of the full moon.

 

The night hadn’t finished its cycle.

 

She could hear her heart pounding, lungs expanding and closing. But she couldn’t feel her skin touching the water. It was numb from the freezing ocean.

 

I’m… I’m alive…

 

Her blonde hair glimmered and wavered along the peaceful flow of the sea. Noticing her hair and nails to had grown longer, she questioned, How long have I been here? How many days have gone by?

 

Her body slimmed since her long nap. It felt like the the sun was absent and the night lasted months.

 

How am I still alive?

 

Her life vest kept her afloat but the predators of the sea should have swallowed her or hypothermia should have been her end long ago. The light rhythmically pointed back at her pale face, blinding her. Her conscience hazed. Barely awake, Vera turned her head to search for the source of the luminescence.

 

A lighthouse! 

 

It shone through the mist from a vast distance away.

 

How is this possible? The Vivaci sank in the middle of the Mediterranean and now I am near shore. Is this a miracle?

 

The sight of land brought a tint of hope but was it worth swimming? Vera was a trained diver, the life on the sea required her to know how to swim but the interval between Vera and the lighthouse - life and death - was absurd. She shivered from the cold, while not being able to sense it. Her energy was almost depleted, suffering from malnutrition, Vera wondered, Can I make it to shore? It’s improbable… but so is my survival. What is the point of all this? If God has a plan then why I am still here? What purpose did He give me? Why couldn’t I join my mother in heaven?

 

The brightness overtook her again. Her mother, emerging, was as clear as daylight, “Listen, little strawberry,” Chiara spoke softly, “Life is a never-ending race with countless hurdles, but to reach the finish line…” Chiara smiled sincerely, “you have to keep swimming.”

 

Vera could feel a sudden warmth and the shivering stopped.

 

That’s right! Mama sacrificed herself to save me: she put a life vest on me to keep me breathing the surface air; she lunged herself towards a moving projectile and blocked it with her chest. All of that… for me. Whatever my purpose is, I have to swim toward the light - I have to live to see the clouds - cream white.

 

Coming to a realization, a fire that was born within her raged into pure determination. Vera Doverskaya began to swim towards the lighthouse.

 

Focused on the shining bright light.

Arms and legs swung with all their might.

Pupils, constricting, experienced dilation.

Face hardened in blazing concentration.

 

Adrenaline flowed through her bloodstream, pumping through her fast-beating heart. Her respiratory system, working meticulously, inhaled and exhaled the unpleasant salty ocean air, drying her nose and tongue. 50 meters…100 meters… 1000 meters… She didn’t stop: Vera kept swimming and swimming - one breath - one heart beat - one swing at a time. The more she neared the shore, the more she thought, I can do it! I will do it! Slowly, but surely, it became brighter and brighter - closer and closer.

 

She did it: she reached the lighthouse - an impossible victory. No human should have done it - no Olympic swimmer should have done it. It was inhuman - a phenomenal feat.

 

Exhausted, she dropped to her knees and extended her arms, “Thank you, mama, for showing me the light!” Vera exclaimed as she let out a big smile and screamed in triumph.

 

As grateful as she was to stand on soil with her heart and soul intact, she hadn’t forgiven God, because Chiara was taken by Him from her forever. Vera stopped relying on Lord’s help. Her faith withered as she questioned her existence without Him, I have to keep living in protest. The Lord wanted me dead and I have defied Him. But what am I here for if God didn’t give me a purpose?

 

The search for the meaning of life was set in motion.

 

 

Author's Note

tell me EVERYTHING.