I am not there, I do not sleep
The moment it happened, Lilith stopped dead in her tracks. For minutes, she stood still, not breathing, not blinking, Adam circling her with a concerned whine. Her mind raced, searching throughout Creation for something, anything, that would tell her she was wrong. Deep in her soul, she knew it was an exercise in futility, but she didn’t care. Coming up empty, she finally summoned in her the strength of divinity to unleash a scream never before heard in God’s experiment. It was heard for miles around, a wrenching release of sorrow and agony that was followed by a crippling blow to the soul.
Exhausted for the first time in her life, Lilith fell to the ground. When she awoke, she found that she was no longer on Earth, but was lying in the fields outside the Gates to the Higher Realms, her head resting in her mother’s lap. The Keeper stroked her daughter’s hair, her skin glowing a sorrowful pale blue.
“Is she here?” Lilith murmured, already knowing the answer.
“Her family does not come to me,” The Keeper replied sadly. “They are granted their own final realm.”
She placed a hand over the Anomaly’s heart, hoping to draw away some of the pain, but found her efforts met strong resistance.
“This is my pain,” Lilith said quietly. “It will stay with me.”
The Keeper nodded solemnly in understanding. Lilith stood, staring out across the field, an endless landscape of golden grass, blowing gently in an eternal wind.
“I should have known,” she said. “I should have been there.”
“This was her path,” the angel said. “God Himself could not change it.”
Lilith turned into her mother’s embrace at that moment, burying her face into her shoulder, letting the angel’s ebony hair soak up her tears. The Keeper grieved for her daughter’s heartbreak, holding her close. When Lilith’s tears finally subsided, the angel stood on her tiptoes to kiss her forehead.
“Your heart is broken, daughter, but not destroyed,” she told her. “Remember her in all that you do, and you will heal in time. Let your great affections make you that much stronger.”
With one last embrace, Lilith left the Keeper’s presence, appearing on the shore in Maine, next to the house they had first met in. She waded into the water until it lapped at her waist, letting the freezing temperature permeate her senses.
“I’ll miss you always,” she said, letting the wind carry her words away. “May grace find you and grant you peace.”
She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, treasuring for a moment the smell of salt and fresh air.
“Dear sister, goodbye.”
Exhausted for the first time in her life, Lilith fell to the ground. When she awoke, she found that she was no longer on Earth, but was lying in the fields outside the Gates to the Higher Realms, her head resting in her mother’s lap. The Keeper stroked her daughter’s hair, her skin glowing a sorrowful pale blue.
“Is she here?” Lilith murmured, already knowing the answer.
“Her family does not come to me,” The Keeper replied sadly. “They are granted their own final realm.”
She placed a hand over the Anomaly’s heart, hoping to draw away some of the pain, but found her efforts met strong resistance.
“This is my pain,” Lilith said quietly. “It will stay with me.”
The Keeper nodded solemnly in understanding. Lilith stood, staring out across the field, an endless landscape of golden grass, blowing gently in an eternal wind.
“I should have known,” she said. “I should have been there.”
“This was her path,” the angel said. “God Himself could not change it.”
Lilith turned into her mother’s embrace at that moment, burying her face into her shoulder, letting the angel’s ebony hair soak up her tears. The Keeper grieved for her daughter’s heartbreak, holding her close. When Lilith’s tears finally subsided, the angel stood on her tiptoes to kiss her forehead.
“Your heart is broken, daughter, but not destroyed,” she told her. “Remember her in all that you do, and you will heal in time. Let your great affections make you that much stronger.”
With one last embrace, Lilith left the Keeper’s presence, appearing on the shore in Maine, next to the house they had first met in. She waded into the water until it lapped at her waist, letting the freezing temperature permeate her senses.
“I’ll miss you always,” she said, letting the wind carry her words away. “May grace find you and grant you peace.”
She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, treasuring for a moment the smell of salt and fresh air.
“Dear sister, goodbye.”