Raph al Guul
It hurt. It hurt so much. Excruciating pain in every last part of her fragile body. But she could not do anything about it; she could not move, she could not leave. She was here and therefore forced to endure this torture. And since no one else was standing up for her, she looked skyward and asked god the universal question. It was the question that everyone who feels mistreated asks, the one question that is so simple that the complexity of the answer assumes monstrous proportions: “Why?”
God just stood there. Her creator, much less majestic than one would expect, stood there and watched. He seemed to have lost interest the moment his creation was successfully brought to fruition. She looked at him with tears in her eyes and asked: “Why would you do this?” And god answered: “I’m not doing anything.” “But why won’t you do anything!? Why won’t you help me?” God shrugged. He was not quite sure why he was arguing with his own creation. “Listen, couldn’t you just be grateful that I gave you a chance to exist?”
It hurt. She already could no longer feel parts of her body. Did she really want to exist like this? Again, her sad eyes directed her gaze skyward and she responded: “But why would you make me, if you will leave me to rot!? It hurts so much. Don’t you want to be proud of me? How could you, after seeing me like this?” God just stood there. He was not proud. But he knew some things that she didn’t know. Things that she would have had to know to understand. God wondered if he should tell her. She was silently crying.
“Look, even if I wanted to do anything, I can’t. There are powers beyond mine, authorities that not even I can cross. And they are the ones hurting you. I wouldn’t have wanted this to happen, but at this point, I am no longer in charge of you. I am just the creator.” It was painful to tell her. She would not understand, would she. He added: “Come on, just try to make the best of it. And remember that the sun will shine again someday, even for you.”
She looked at her creator. He was just standing there, looking at her misery. She was still crying, but she realized that no one would hear it. God would not stand up for her; and if not him, who would? It hurt. But she knew that she had to be brave. The burning pain increased. She just lay there and took it. She closed her eyes, pictured the sun shining. It was bright and pleasant; the radiant light reflecting on her mind’s beautiful eyes. She was secure. She was okay. She was content.