One cold morning, she sat in her patio, sweating. It had been so long since she had gone for a jog, she could barely breathe. She sat there watching the sun coming up, sneaking in through the wholesome, green, spring trees. It had been so long since the last time she watched a sunrise too.
Lost in thoughts, she sat there for an hour. She remembered asking these same questions to many she thought she would get a serious, convincing answer from; “If God has a plan for all of us, then why do we even have to try? Wouldn’t that create variables in his plan? What is the point of trying and changing our destiny, if that is even a choice?”
Needless to say, none of the answers were satisfying. She remembered asking her best friend, a priest and a Brother of the Church. None of them could give a clear answer for her level of helpless curiosity. Like a kid who is trying to take his first steps, she sat there terrified, wondering what it all means. Or like Robert Langdon from Dan Brown’s books says, am I really not meant to understand?
“The sun is up now, it really looks magnificent today, I really picked a good day to wake up early” she thought. She wandered off from topic to topic, memories to memories for all she could do these days seemed to be wandering off in a mind-castle built of these long, unusual thoughts. “What are you doing here? It is cold out!” Her dad’s voice woke her up from her little personal, inexpensive travel/nodding off.
She went inside into the hall where monuments of her past victories sat, pointing and laughing at her. They always make her look back and wonder, “what was the point?!”. But not today, she thought. Today is the beginning of a great plan she had, to get back what she lost (hence the early morning jog), so no wandering around anymore. She turned to get a glass of water, and happened to see her mom cooking in the kitchen. She glanced at those tired, drooping eyes struggling hard with all the love and concern they had in abundance to keep the disappointment from bursting out. Staring deep in to that very moment, she felt her heart sinking into the Dead Sea leaving only her body afloat. She put down the glass and climbed the stairs to her room.
Locking the doors behind her, she tried to squeeze a tear out of her eyes so that she could pour out the charcoal black stains the past years had gifted her heart and find some peace. But even her tears were not really hers anymore for they hesitated to come out at her command. She laid on her bed watching the bright, golden rays leaping into her room through the lacy, white curtains she picked out. Saying goodbye to the morning-cold, busted in the warmth of the just risen sun.
She watched her neighbors getting ready for the day, children walking to School, two-wheelers and four-wheelers running to work by her window. She wondered again, “Everyone else seem to be moving; why am I frozen in time?”
She opened her eyes, in a minute she couldn’t believe what she was looking at. All she could bear to find was the thick, slimy water in the Dead Sea surrounding her. “Was I really floating around all this time? But I am sure I was in my room back home. Was I dreaming? Or am I dreaming now?” She mumbled to herself until it stopped making sense. To her surprise, she wasn’t panicking anymore for she couldn’t care less as her heart was finding its way down to the bed of the sea.
Miles away, beyond where her eyes could reach, there stood an island. Deserted despite a light house, waiting for the sun to go down and the night to take over, so that it could beam up the seas.