Red
No, not again, not again!
Seven-year-old Rachel’s eyes flew open, her body instantly alert. The air crackled with tension, making the hair on her arms stand at attention. Her tiny nostrils flared as she breathed in the oppressive heaviness, and the putrid scent of sulfur. Despite the unnatural heat, or maybe because of it, she burrowed deeper into the blanket and clutched her doll closer.
Mommy and Daddy’s voices rose with urgency. “Red, red as the blood that was shed, we call our son back from the dead.”
They were playing that terrible game again, the game they called Red. Sometimes they wanted her to play too, but the thought of her brother returning from the dead terrified her. She didn’t want Danny to come back, not like that.
Her eyes darted to the window. Her older brother, Danny would sneak into her window in the middle of the night, when he was alive. It was the only time he was nice to her, giving her candy if she wouldn’t tell Mommy and Daddy he’d broken curfew. Sometimes she imagined what he would look like now that he had been buried so long. At night when Mommy and Daddy were playing their game, she couldn’t shake the image of his mangled body sneaking into her room. Where had they even learned such a game? They said she was a bad girl for refusing to play. “If you loved him you wouldn’t be such a coward!”
She stroked her doll’s dark hair. “Esther, I know you aren’t scared, but I am,” she whispered. Esther was beautiful and not scared of anything. She was named after Queen Esther, the brave queen that saved her people.
“Red, red as the blood that was shed, we call our son back from the dead.”
Rachel slapped her hands over her ears to block Mommy’s shrill voice. Shivers raced up her spine. Mommy and Daddy were so different since Danny’s car accident.
She missed the family they used to be. Sometimes they had even gone to church. She liked dressing up, and going to Sunday school, hearing the fascinating stories they told. The story of Queen Esther seemed like a fairy tale. She loved the Bible stories, and tucked them away in her heart to think about later.
“Rae-chel"
A voice taunted. It was coming from the window. Her eyes whipped around, horrified to see the latch unlock, and the window slide open by unseen hands. A numbing chill snaked its way through her, and coiled in the pit of her stomach.
She used Esther to shield her eyes from the hideous shape that was forming. Like a swarm of gnats, dark spots twirled, and assembled themselves, whirling into a body, legs, arms . . . chest.
“Esther, what do I do?” she whispered. What had made Esther so brave? She wished she knew Esther’s God, but she didn’t even know how to pray.
The figure had grown to the size of a man, now the wispy smoke-like features gathering substance becoming more solid than shadows.
How she wished she had a god like Esther’s. Would Esther’s God help her?
She remembered that He had a son. Could He see her? Did He know she was in trouble?
The dark shape moved forward and stood at the foot of her bed. It was real, not a dream, not her imagination. The air charged with evil made her head feel as if it would explode.
“Esther’s God, I need you to be real!” she said. She squeezed her eyes tight to block out the image. Please be real. Please be real!
She felt the bed dip. It was right beside her. In her bed! “Oh God of Esther, if you are real, save me! Please save me!”
Without opening her eyes, Rachel sensed something different. The fear in her heart ceased, and the heaviness of the room lifted. The air felt fresh and sweet against her sweat-soaked skin. Her eyes opened in time to see the figure dissipate like a flame that had been snuffed out.
Peace flooded her soul and washed away all fear. She was safe. There was much she didn’t understand, but she knew that Esther’s God had become her God, and now she belonged to Him too. She snuggled closer to Esther and imagined that she was resting in the palm of a great hand, and fell into a blissful sleep.
Impressum
Texte: Michelle Kidd
Tag der Veröffentlichung: 02.12.2012
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