Swept Away

It’s late in this humid afternoon.  From afar, the pillowy dark clouds are rolling fast to the north and I can hear the threatening thunder.

I stood next to my oak tree with delight, because it’s going to be the night I’ve been waiting for.

The worried look from people tells me that warnings must have been flashed all over the news.  The panic and despair from families who know they’ll never be ready, excites me!

It’s my day!

I’ve waited in this corner for too long and I’m tired of being invisible.  Even when someone finally notices me, they force themselves to pretend I wasn’t there.  As if I’m just a mist; and admitting my existence will mean nightmares are real.

But I’m over that now. Today they will see me. And everyone will know my name!

The sky is darker now and the rain started to pour.

It didn’t stop for hours.

The wind blew the roofs and thunders scared the little children. I hear emergency alarms everywhere and people screamed scouring for their rescue.

They’re music to my ears; an orchestra in my honor.

The water filled the rivers, and the drainage system started to flood. It entered the homes and flushed away the materials of flattery that people wear as masks to the world.

And then I see it.

My cage started to rise.

It started to float above the surface and saw a glimpse of the howling sky.

I was free.

I was carried away.

Far away from the prison that has kept me cold and alone.  I don’t remember how I got there.

I don’t remember who put me there.

I only remember the chains that I tried to get away from before my breath was taken away… and my scream faded through the night.  I saw myself rot to the bones, and it will never be enough until they see me; until they know my name.

My thirst yearned for this night.

And my selfish resolve is blind to the suffering of the living.

They’re collaterals.

Now I’ll sit here and just wait.

Until the morning sun glimmered hope again to those who got through the curse.

But only for a short while…

For they have seen me.

And now they remember me.

I was once a daughter.

I was once a friend.

I was once hopeful.

And they said my name, and they tell my story.

“She was Angela.  13 years old.

She’s been missing for more than a week now”.

They say she was violated, chained and left for dead at the old basement in an abandoned house.  Nobody went there, because they think it was haunted when they heard those tiny screams in the night.

And a shadow at the Oak tree stands guard at sunset.

The rain became my vessel, as it carried me to the surface where I can feel the light.

I’ve heard it call me many times, but it was beyond my reach until now.

And then I flew.

The sounds faded through the clouds just as how my existence was drowned from the humanity’s obsessions of heroes, wealth and politics.

They knew my name.

And they will forget.