Broken Sanctuary

Xandra awoke at first light, as she had done for so many years. Her house was rotting and void of life, but here she remained. She was always quite lonely as her babies had been taken from her, but she could not leave her home. Her husband had built the house many years ago, but he too left her.

Perhaps once a year a few children could be heard outside whispering, but none were brave enough to enter the dark house or even knock. In the old days, she had many more visitors, but the people now were different. They weren’t nearly as adventurous and certainly not so bored as they had once been, it seemed.

Of those who ever did decide to pay her a visit, very few were very nice. They broke most of her things and they threw bottles and rocks at her windows. In fact, all of her windows were broken aside from a small window in the attic that bled a few tiny rays of warm sunlight. That’s where she spent most of her time; she didn’t really like the dark.

Not all of those who showed themselves in her home had bad intentions though. Xandra could recall an older gentleman whom came and boarded up all of her windows. He seemed a kind man, and she tried to thank him, but he seemed afraid of her voice, just like everyone else, Xandra thought. The man never returned. At least her little house wasn’t so damn drafty anymore.

The day passed slowly, as it usually did. There was little to do in that creaky old house and so Xandra spent much of her time in her own head. But, not a single thought that crossed her mind was new, however. She had lost the ability to imagine anything new and she was growing tired. Her spirit was fading, and Xandra knew her time on this earth was nearly at its end. She could feel her G-d calling her, and the whisper grew stronger every day.

She wanted nothing more then to see her family again; she hoped she still could. And yet, she was compelled to stay for providence’s sake. Her sanctuary was broke open.

The front door opened slowly and quietly, but with intention. A young girl emerged through the gap that formed. She was afraid of this place, she had learned it’s legend; and yet she courageously entered its domain.

Xandra could immediately feel the girl’s presence. She was flooded with the essence of this foreign life force. Xandra could see the ambitions, the pain, and the purity of this young girl. She knew her by name, but she knew not how.

A bright, but small beam of light stole away the darkness that had ruled the small rooms of the house for a lifetime. The girl waded through piles of empty bottles and miscellaneous refuse; offensive amateur paintings adorned the wooden walls. Before her was a violated space, and yet she felt protection from this space. Like Xandra, this young girl had nowhere else to go, but here.

Sanah carefully lifted the cushions of a desecrated sofa from above, checking for needles. After ensuring her safety, she surrendered to its comforts. She lifted a heavy bag from her shoulders and placed it before her; from it, she procured a wax candle. After lighting it, she examined the photo that adorned the candle; it contained a family she had never known.

By now, Xandra’s excitement had placed the living before the eyes of the dead.

“Sanah” she called softly.

Sanah laid her head back into the damp backrest of the couch. She could not help but worry how much longer she could hide, this was not her first night.

“Sanah?” Xandra wondered if she had spoken loud enough. There was no response.

The girl scanned the rest of the first floor. Only part of the kitchen sink remained unsheltered from the destruction. Splinters of rotten wood, the remains of what once was, were scatter upon the floor. A fireplace dominated the center of the small home and so Sanah thought to build a fire, it would be a long night.

“Sanah!” Xandra now spoke clearly and without restraint.

The young girl felt a small tingle in her auditory cortex; this was a new sensation. The feeling grew stronger as the old spirit grew more frustrated.

By now Xandra was screaming at the girl. With each exertion of her energy, her life grew dimmer, and yet a light further within her became more intense. The hour of her final and complete departure from the physical world had come.

Suddenly the ground stirred beneath Sanah’s feet. Crumpled pages rose from the floor, ashes materialized from thin air into more. A loud bang could be heard above, and like a tornado, the pages followed its sound.

At first the girl was frozen in fear, but then a voice penetrated her mind. The voice was firm, soothing, and loving, but Sanah could not understand the words; she could not possibly imagine their contents. It was a sensation she had never felt before. And yet she was compelled by the voice to ascend the stairway.

Sanah strategically navigated her way up the steps, many of which were at least partly broken. Soon she reached the second floor. The condition of the rooms and their possessions here were in many ways comparable to that of the first floor. The only difference lied in the main bedroom.

The flashlight from Sanah’s phone flooded the room. A mattress lay stained on the floor, but behind it a desk stood tall. Upon it laid a black, fabric-laden book. The voices in the young girls head now turned to soft nudges on her back. Xandra had little strength left for anything more.

Sanah took the book and recognized it to be a diary. She began at once to read the voice that the writer had left behind. It first told the story of another young girl whose dream was to find a newer and better life for herself; one full of adventure and romance and happiness. The book continued to tell the story of an expecting mother, and then a mother, and then a grieving mother, and then a widowed bride. All was in the course of one woman’s life, written in the pages. Sanah now knew the name of the other.

Just then, a ladder dropped from the ceiling with a loud crash. Sanah was at first frightened again, but the tone of the voice hypnotized her.

When the girl reached the floor of the attic, she noticed a site quite different than what was below. Various items were neatly organized and there was no clutter. Clothes were neatly folded on shelves, and various trinkets and other fancies filled the space. The moonlight pierced the room sharply and the flashlight was no longer needed.

Sanah examined each item carefully with curiosity before she noticed a small chest hidden away in the corner. Before she could move to open it, she felt an embrace from behind her. It warmed her noticeably from within. Before long, it was gone. The moonlit window was engulfed in a bright light for a moment, but then it too was gone.

Sanah opened the chest and found jewelry, gold, a few wads of money, and other valuable things.

“Xandra!” she cried out several times. There would be no response.

The young girl now stood alone in that lonely attic. She attempted many more times to prove this wrong, but to no avail. Sanah cried herself to sleep that night, right there on that hardwood floor.

In the morning Sanah awoke, fully knowing that she could not stay there forever. She left hungry, tired, exhausted and deaf, but now she had hope. She remained: on the run.