I am a young girl
I think from the south. (Georgia?) I could be wrong.
I am not a southern belle
But more up-to-date, (a punk rocker?)
And even a bit radical.
I live in a place with gently rolling hills
Covered with grass.
Off into the distance, one can see
The tops of the skyscrapers,
From a big metropolitan city.
I am laying down on the sidewalk,
With my cheek pressed down against the cement,
reveling in its warmth,
when suddenly the Voice inside me,
says “What are you doing? Get up!
Can’t you see that storm off in the distance there?
It is headed your way, fast!”
I looked up in the direction
That the Voice was prompting me of,
And seen the angry storm It was warning me of.
Indeed, as I stood there for a long moment,
I could tell that it was headed our way,
And quickly, too. Almost too quickly for a simple ‘storm’.
So I warned those I was with of the storm,
And that we should think of finding shelter
Wherever we could, Before it hit.
I went back into my back yard,
And closed the fence behind me.
Already, there were many people there,
All milling around and talking, as if
this was simply another false warning,
that they were going to party through.
A few voices among them,
Lovingly teased me over this,
For my views on such happenings
were well known among them.
One or two others who knew me less,
Mocked me. I ignored them.
As I made my way through the crowd,
The call was made to order pizza.
“No more than six, o.k.?,” I responded,
As a few of my closer friends
Frowned at me in warning.
“And,” I stated to the crowd with a wry smile,
“Each of you who has some pizza,
Can chip in a few bucks to help pay for it.
My bank account can’t afford
to keep paying for all you guys pizza’s, you know.”
Sure enough, when the pizza came,
Everyone chipped in enough to pay for it,
So I did not have to.
The Voice within, told me to get inside now,
For the storm was almost upon us.
So I went inside, (As did some others,)
Down into the half-basement
And watched the storm through a big upper window,
As it seemed to settle over the nearby metropolitan city.
Sounds began to filter in,
Layered upon each other,
Cement cracking, metal screeching,
Hundreds of people Screaming,
As if they each suddenly realized
Their life would soon end,
Then abruptly silenced as if it did.
I walked to the other side of the double-bungalow,
Where the others were starring through the other upper window,
And my mouth fell open in shock at what I saw.
The clouds seemed to gather itself up, darken,
And then the sound of a booming thunder
Cracked down upon the earth below it.
I looked for the lightening that I knew preceded the thunder,
But instead I seen two thick red laser beams,
Emanating from the blue-black cloud,
Each making distinct precision cuts
Into the metropolis below it,
Cutting off the tops of these enormous skyscrapers
And tossing them out about the land
As if they were nothing but
a small child’s building block.
We all watched this scene repeat itself,
For several moments, frozen in horror,
As The top of an old light-colored skyscraper
Came sailing right at us, spinning and turning
As it tumbled and bounced off the ground,
The Voice within me said “What are you doing?
Get back over to the other side and seek shelter
Or you will die too!”
I moved quickly then,
Intent on finding the shelter that I needed.
I seen the old shelves before me,
Built into the walls of the house,
And they reminded me of an article I had read
That described how another Christian
Was able to survive a ‘storm’,
By crouching up & into one of the shelves,
And covering themselves with an old (wet?) mattress.
So, with this memory, & the Holy Spirit’s Voice within me,
Guiding me as to which spot was best for me,
I was able to find some shelter.
It was on one of the lower shelves,
The first one at level with the window.
(The basement was dug about three feet
Into the earth below it, and the windows
Were at ground level,) not too far forward, but pressed
Right into the corner of the two connecting walls.
Pandemonium ruled now,
As everyone ran about
Scattered and without thought.
As I looked at those around me,
Running around in their circles,
I knew that they would die.
My heart ached for them,
And I thought to go out
And try to warn them once more,
But The Holy Spirit within me,
Told me “No!,” and to remain where I was.
“You have already warned them many times before,
and they are too upset to make sense
of anything you’d say now.”
So with a heavy heart,
I crouched back into my little cubby hole,
And waited for the horrible sounds to end.
My face was to the window,
And I pressed towards that light
That still filtered in, hoping to still see
And keep watch on the world outside.
I figured that I would be safe enough,
For even though I knew
That the huge window would shatter,
I believed that it would not break
so close to it’s edges.
“No,” said The Holy Spirit still within me,
“You are to press yourself back in
As far as you can into the corner,
For after the chaos, there will come a search,
To locate any survivors,
And I do not want them to find you.”
I sensed from The Holy Spirit,
That the government
Would send out this search party,
To find any survivors, so they could kill them,
Thereby removing any witness.
I still could not quite accept
That our own Government
Would be the ones to kill us,
Yet I also knew, somehow,
That these death rays
Were ultimately from them.
“Well, at least I will survive this,” I thought to myself.
“With this mattress, I’ll even survive the fire.”
“Only,” The Holy Spirit responded to me,
“because you are now kitty-corner to the furnace,
And as far away from it as you can be.”
At this, I crouched as down and low as I possibly could,
and patiently awaited the end of the storm.
As the cold light of daybreak, came,
I awoke to the sounds of two male voices.
I could not make out what they were saying to each other,
But as I heard their laughter, I sensed that this destruction
Set before their eyes was not new to them,
for I heard no shock, dismay, or even concern in their voices.
Every few moments, they would yell out to any survivors,
Offering to help them, and then pause to listen to the silence
In case they could hear a response.
As their voices grew closer,
I realized that my body had relaxed a bit in sleep,
And I was in danger of being seen,
So I re-tucked myself further back into the corner,
Beyond the frame of the window.
As the men walked by the window where I was hiding,
I heard them decide amongst themselves
that nothing within the structure could have survived,
so they did no further searching among the wreckage.
I waited till the voices had faded into the distance,
Before sensing that I could now lift my head up
And open my eyes again.
I could see them still,
Walking off into the distance,
Clothed in their military gear,
With their rifles loosely by their side.
I then woke up from the dream…
* * * *