Out of the Shadows

A curse. It's what she was ascertained to be. A plague which has been put on the burden of the residents of the world. People discarded her as mere trash for they considered her as an ill-omen. Misfortune embraced her when she didn't even know the real meaning of life. God called her parents to his abode and left her with an odious, monstrous scar which blemished her chalky, innocent, baby-like face. What was her fault in all that? No one can obstruct God's Will. Her scar hindered her joy, her happiness. She was a mere victim of fate. Left desolated, isolated up to no good, where no one was here to even ask her about food, where she spent sleepless nights hoping that someone will come to sing her a lullaby. Longing for a melody, tired of being lonely, wishing that there will be someone, somewhere who will care about her, about her desires, her dreams , her wishes, her hopes. Left in the darkness where she could not even see her own shadows, where it was even more painful to face the life, when survival has been a desire charred in the fire with wistful hopes. She lingered, hovered as she cried over days and nights when her tears became colorless like diamond dust but who stained her clothes like thick crimson red blood. The little lady waited for long in certainty that God is here, he exists, he'll help her. Nevertheless, these dreams of hers were suffused by the dust that time left on its way. Loneliness monopolized her life as it ruled over her and even bleaks of light was altered into ashes as it hit it. Survival was solace for her, which seemed to be hardly an oblivion. It then came when a cherub entered her life filling it with lights, blue like the blue hyacinths, yellow like sunflowers, pink like lilies, red like zinnias. She flourished amidst the white, fluffy sky as she was lifted up to the crystal clear sky. She came out of her shadow, up to somewhere were even a slight faint ray of it was changed into creatures of light.