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priscaTitle: The Night Which Changed His Life
Character: Mr. Smith, Sister Hannah, Rose
Word Count: 503
Prompt: thankful, in the middle
Rating: PG13
:::
Smith was sitting on a wooden chair beside Rose's bed, unable to turn his eyes away. It was in the middle of the night already, the little girl had finally fallen asleep. But all he could do was to watch her. It still felt like wonder.
He was so used to it, to see the most horrible things; all too often, God's prophecies led him to places of destruction, where it was already too late for any help.
When he did wake last night with the booming voice in his head, telling him to go to the old convent, which now was home and school for a dozen children, he had felt horror creeping in his body like never before. No, he wouldn't endure this.
Nevertheless, he had no choice. It took him two hours to get there, and when his eyes finally fell onto the dark building, only lit by faint moonshine, his heart was beating wild with relief. He had prepared himself to find the house in ruins, all inhabitants dead. But everything looked quiet, maybe too quiet?
When he turned off the motor of the jeep, he noticed the figure of the old nun standing at the door as if she had already awaited him. "There you are," Sister Hannah said and smiled slightly when he stepped closer.
"What's happened," he asked. "The children...";
"They are fine," she reassured him. "We all are fine. But there is someone you need to meet."
He followed her into the big, empty hall. A fire was still burning in the fireplace, and then he saw her. A little girl, sitting on a chair in the shadow, she turned around when he entered the room. Her long, blond hair braided into pigtails; she was wearing a red shirt, which was too big, and flap trousers. Green-brown eyes were resting on him, but she didn't say a word.
Smith felt his mouth going dry when Sister Hannah stepped at his side. "Her name is Rose. And she says she is looking for you. Because you are her father."
:::
Some hours later, Smith was sitting beside Rose's bed, watching her. Only slowly, his heart calmed down. He hadn't known about her existence, but yes, it was possible. The night, six years ago, he had spent with Mary Ann, a night where he had been happy, maybe for the last time.
The night which had changed everything because he had heard God's voice for the first time. For six years, he was God's messenger and followed his orders, even if he didn't understand the reason for them, and it usually ended with pain and loss. But there was no escape; he had tried it once, and the result had been dreadful.
Smith's eyes were resting on the little girl's small face, and suddenly, he felt deep love rushing through his veins. Yes, usually, God was merciless. Not tonight, though. He had given him Rose, his daughter, and Smith knew he would always be thankful for this.
Character: Mr. Smith, Sister Hannah, Rose
Word Count: 503
Prompt: thankful, in the middle
Rating: PG13
:::
Smith was sitting on a wooden chair beside Rose's bed, unable to turn his eyes away. It was in the middle of the night already, the little girl had finally fallen asleep. But all he could do was to watch her. It still felt like wonder.
He was so used to it, to see the most horrible things; all too often, God's prophecies led him to places of destruction, where it was already too late for any help.
When he did wake last night with the booming voice in his head, telling him to go to the old convent, which now was home and school for a dozen children, he had felt horror creeping in his body like never before. No, he wouldn't endure this.
Nevertheless, he had no choice. It took him two hours to get there, and when his eyes finally fell onto the dark building, only lit by faint moonshine, his heart was beating wild with relief. He had prepared himself to find the house in ruins, all inhabitants dead. But everything looked quiet, maybe too quiet?
When he turned off the motor of the jeep, he noticed the figure of the old nun standing at the door as if she had already awaited him. "There you are," Sister Hannah said and smiled slightly when he stepped closer.
"What's happened," he asked. "The children...";
"They are fine," she reassured him. "We all are fine. But there is someone you need to meet."
He followed her into the big, empty hall. A fire was still burning in the fireplace, and then he saw her. A little girl, sitting on a chair in the shadow, she turned around when he entered the room. Her long, blond hair braided into pigtails; she was wearing a red shirt, which was too big, and flap trousers. Green-brown eyes were resting on him, but she didn't say a word.
Smith felt his mouth going dry when Sister Hannah stepped at his side. "Her name is Rose. And she says she is looking for you. Because you are her father."
:::
Some hours later, Smith was sitting beside Rose's bed, watching her. Only slowly, his heart calmed down. He hadn't known about her existence, but yes, it was possible. The night, six years ago, he had spent with Mary Ann, a night where he had been happy, maybe for the last time.
The night which had changed everything because he had heard God's voice for the first time. For six years, he was God's messenger and followed his orders, even if he didn't understand the reason for them, and it usually ended with pain and loss. But there was no escape; he had tried it once, and the result had been dreadful.
Smith's eyes were resting on the little girl's small face, and suddenly, he felt deep love rushing through his veins. Yes, usually, God was merciless. Not tonight, though. He had given him Rose, his daughter, and Smith knew he would always be thankful for this.