Rise To The Crown- The Story of the Third-In-Line

** Fifty-Four (2013.08)

Warning: Mentions of Homicidal thoughts, Satan and God themes

In the dark of the night, Delly found herself jolted awake by a vivid dream, one that sent icy shivers down her spine. In her dream, her beloved parents had callously abandoned her for her infant brother, George. The betrayal she felt in the depths of her subconscious was suffocating, leaving her heart pounding in her chest as she gasped for air.

As she fought to shake off the remnants of her haunting dream, Delly's wide eyes settled on the darkened room surrounding her. A mix of fear and confusion enveloped her young mind, urging her to investigate the reality of the situation. Nervously, she pushed back the covers and tiptoed across the creaking floorboards toward George's room.

The dim light continued to play tricks on her mind, casting eerie and elongated shadows on the peeling wallpaper. Each shadow danced maliciously, mocking her pain and feeding her bitterness. Delly's steps faltered for a moment, her resolve wavered, but she steeled herself and continued her approach towards her brother's crib.

As she hovered over his infant form, Delly couldn't help but notice the innocence that radiated from him. His tiny chest rose and fell with each peaceful breath, blissfully unaware of the storm brewing in his sister's heart. It was the sight of his serenity that both soothed and inflamed her. How could someone so pure elicit such conflicting emotions?

The resentment she had harbored for so long had taken root in the darkest corners of her mind. It began as a whisper, a nagging thought that prickled at her consciousness, tempting her with power and control. The weight of her past rejections and disappointments seemed to gather momentum, begging to be released in a destructive force that would shake the very foundations of her existence.

Yet, even in her desperate struggle against her own desires, Delly knew that revenge was not the answer. She knew that succumbing to this devious impulse would only deepen the chasm between her and the rest of the world, isolating her further in a realm of darkness. She clenched her fists, fighting against the rage that threatened to consume her, and sought solace in the last vestiges of her love for her brother.

But the room, frozen in anticipation, held its breath as if aware of the battle raging within Delly's soul. The tension hung heavy in the air, electrifying her surroundings and making it almost unbearable to stay in that tiny, suffocating space. It was in this moment of profound turmoil that Delly faced the harsh reality of her inner demons.

Her hands shook violently with the suppressed anger, trembling with desperation for retribution that she had never known before.

It was both terrifying and intoxicating, this newfound thirst for vengeance. In the depths of her despair, she yearned for the release that only revenge could bring, a release that seemed to promise utter satisfaction and a momentary respite from her torment.

As Delly stood there, her hands trembling, an inner struggle raged within her. The intense urge to harm her baby brother, George, warred with the voice of reason in her mind. It was as if two opposing forces were battling for control of her soul.

The malevolent desire to harm George gnawed at her, fueled by the anger and jealousy that had taken root in her heart. But as she stared at his innocent, slumbering form, a voice, a whisper of conscience, began to emerge from the depths of her mind.

"Stop, Delly," the voice implored, gentle yet firm. "This isn't who you are. This isn't what love is."

Delly's eyes welled with tears as she grappled with the inner turmoil. She knew that the path she was contemplating was a dark one, one that would forever haunt her and tear her family apart. The voice continued to speak, reminding her of the love and unity that had defined her family.

"I love you Delly," the voice reassured her. "I love you just as much as I love George."

The voice was ethereal and beyond human description. It was a voice that seemed to resonate from the depths of her consciousness, carrying with it a profound sense of wisdom and authority.

Though it had no physical form, its presence was undeniable. It spoke with a calm and reassuring tone as if it held the secrets of the universe within its words. The voice carried a sense of ancient knowledge as if it had witnessed the ebb and flow of time itself.

"Who are you?"

"I am that I am"  He declared, its tone carrying an air of solemnity.

"And you say you love me?"

"Yes, because I do. All are equal in my eyes. I love you and I want you to love everyone else the way I love you."

Delly's eyes widened in awe and wonder. She had never encountered such a presence before, and the revelation left her both humbled and bewildered. She felt a profound sense of purpose and destiny in those words, a sense that her life was meant for something greater.

"How do you love me?"

"I know you can do good, not evil. I believe in you."

"And how do I love others? How can I love George?"

He stopped answering.

As she lay in her bed, the weight of the encounter sinking in, Delly knew that she had been touched by a divine force. It was a force that had intervened in her darkest moment, steering her away from the abyss and toward a brighter, more meaningful path.

"How can I love George? —— the same way that God loves me."

Delly knows that she can't expect love from everyone, but she can always find comfort in the voice she heard that night.

In that dark room, Delly's heart held an indelible memory of a moment shrouded in intense emotion. The enormity of her dreams and her own fragility juxtaposed in a poignant dance, leaving her forever changed.

Delly, now, understood love not as something that existed in a vacuum. She understands it against the backdrop of evil.

Perhaps the first step to loving everyone in her country was to love her little brother. How? The way God loves her.

And perhaps, this is what Christianity is about.