Count Your Blessings

A Chapter by Valtameri

God himself was a walking contradictory.

Heaven For A Sinner

Prologue

Count Your Blessings

The hollering of the evenings zephyr continued to conduct such a sound that could only be registered as odd for the young girl; the gentle winds that had once brought her great pleasure could only cause her to shiver in remorse"in short, something was amiss. Being raised in the deep south, pastors and groves from regular civilization had taken its toll on her time and time again which in turn only caused her to shake off these situations to her own imagination. In short, Olive Milton took nothing from the odd circumstance of the smoke that had risen high into the sky causing the dreary plum to mix with an even more dreadful gray. It smelt of brimstone with a touch of something saturated in something sickeningly sweet, Olive could almost taste it causing her to gasp and pause in pain. How could something so foul be coming from the woods? What was this newfound stench? For the young girl couldn’t say as she ran towards it, her tanned pudgy legs carrying her child body forward to witness an inevitable horror.

The winds that whipped across her face like that of her mothers hand caused great discomfort but she felt as though she needed to speed up, to reach the place from the stench arose from. As she grew closer and closer, the vegetation becoming a whirlwind at her sides of thickets of green and brown as leaf and bark blended into one. The dirt at her shoe clad feet picking up with each lung forward to her destination until finally everything stopped. The constant hollering of the winds seemed to go cold as she stared in fear to what she’d been searching for, the large tree that straddled the bodies of her loved ones. Thick ropes of twine spun about them with such intensity that markings were sure to be hidden beneath them, the thorns of said heavenly father about their heads as if to recreate what happened thousands of years ago for their sins. The sweat that fell in droves down their nude forms only to sizzle with great haste as it hit the cauldron like fire beneath them. The wood and plaster that burned like the inferno in from which demons dwelled, the site was hideous, yet, the girl could not turn to feast her eyes elsewhere.

They were burning.

It was hot and cold all at once as she let out her dinner from only hours earlier, a grainy meal consisting of cornbread and wild rice. Olive gazed in fear and in pain as the last of her meal emptied itself from her bowels before glaring back up to the tree in anger and confusion; what was happening? Why was this happening? She opened her mouth to scream or to speak but nothing would evoke from her caverns, the emptiness of the moment causing her to stay silent. The staleness in the air only making matters worse, there was not screaming or even groans of pain coming from those who lay alive in the golden flames of smoke and brimstone. Only repent. Olive widened her eyes as she met face to face with her father whom was slumped over as he was strung up tied to the tree with a look of defeat. The flames that continued to devour him and lick at his flesh melting away only to leave ash white bones that stay-hidden beneath.

“Olive, my dear daughter, pray for us.” His voice so void of emotion, the smoke that filled his lungs causing him to choke on his own words before smoke shrouded over them once more. “Repent and be baptized, every one of you, in the name of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of your sins. And you will receive your gift of the heavenly spirit. Let us fix our burning eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith.” Olive did not understand the words that left her family's mouths’, to repent against what? To receive whom? Why was this happening? She could not understand for the seven year old could not comprehend the forces at work behind this social gathering of death and decay. Burnings were only for those who had committed treason of some sort as punishment, to be judged by thy father’s court in the sky not on earth.

“Papa! Mama! Brother! Sister!” Olive barked out loudly trying to catch her fallen families gaze before they let out their last breaths. They did not turn to her, they only continued to chant out in repent and for forgiveness before finally perishing as the flames fully engulfed them one by one silencing their pleas’ and their cries.

It was silent.

The air was stale once again, the raging fires had roared loudly until Adams ale had shrouded them killing off it’s murderous reign. Ceasing all causing almost a shield over Olive as the charcoal bodies secreted steam from the open gashes, washing away the sweet stench of human flesh. Olive had just witness the funerals of all of her family members, the execution on sought by her heavenly father, murder set by them, a mass suicide. The young girl did not understand as she racked her brain for answers, something, anything! To repent against themselves? They’d done nothing wrong, a preacher and his family ones of god, those who committed no sin to suddenly be deemed sinful and committed to death? This was not fair, why was this happening?

Olive had no more words, she could not speak yet at the same time she could not hold her tongue even if nothing was to come from her tanned lips. The girl was lost and confused beyond belief, she was alone, her family suddenly stolen from her in the frigid grasp of the grim reaper. Although Olive was not a crier she let it out, large droplets rolled from her soot covered cheeks blending with the water below; no one to wipe them away. Only the whispering of desperate willows as the downpour pressed down upon them drowning out the wails of the child. The only thing Olive could do at this point was count her blessings and try to understand the fundamentals and the depth of the situation through the books her family had left her, the word of God and those of his believers should help her grasp why her family had to pay a price so large.

One thing was as clear as the corpses that lay hung up on display to those with eyes: God was crying. As if the king himself was devastated by what had just transpired in his honor in a unique brand of droll self-mockery.

End of prologue.

© 2014 Valtameri

Author's Note

Please tell me what you think! c:

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Featured Review

MeathooksMcGee

Look kid, your good but I feel as though your writing tends to be over written as though your trying to compensate for something, possibly your age. This tends too make your writing a little burdensome and steals away from the writings tempo. If this is your natural style than just ignore me. Your vocab is excellent as well as your alliteration. Also, I have some gift certificates if Olive wants to grab something a little more enjoyable for dinner. Lol, j/k

On the whole, very good. Please return a review.