The fire in front of us smoked thickly and burned bright in this otherwise dark place. The shadows danced in the God’s flawless and handsome face, though it was anything but calming.
For once, the darkness did not bring solitude. Instead, it was dangerous and violent, threatening to unleash itself.
For he is angry.
For he is furious.
And he is going to kill.
It is the first time I have been frightened of him. The feeling is akin to the way I was afraid of my mother. The feeling of being very small, pitifully useless and violently attacked.
On the bed with a torn nightgown while hugging the blankets close, I looked up at him and tried to look for the God that saved me from all of this. Is he still there or has anger completely taken over him? Will he hurt me like everyone else has?
