A Loving God

Freezing bones and chilling spine… the night gives off an ice-cold breeze. Being alone in my room makes me think about a lot of things. Why am I alone tonight? When will my life get better? It makes me think that I shouldn’t have been born in this world. I am so angry. If there is a God, why would He do such a thing? If He’s so loving just like what everyone else says, why would he let me suffer? Am I not His child? Am I not deserving of such love and protection? Why does everybody say that He won't give people anything they couldn’t handle? If He thinks I could endure this suffering, why am I in so much pain?

This whole room irritates me. During the daytime, even when the sun is shining so bright and light enters through the windows, this room still feels so lonely. The white walls look so empty. It’s like I am in an endless void. I can’t escape from this misery. At night, darkness envelopes it and knowing that I am all alone in this dark and hollow room should have given me the jolts… but no. I feel nothing but anger.

Tonight, as I observe every corner of this room, I try to imagine every scary thing that would suit this atmosphere - icy cold, and pitch-dark. But I still can’t find the exact feeling of a petrifying horror. I want to feel scared. I wish to get flustered and fearful for my life. Yet the darkness, and the emptiness can’t do anything to terrify me. Even the screams of the girl in the next room don’t even alarm me. What if she’s dying there? What if somebody’s trying to kill her? and all she could do is scream but no one wants to save her because they couldn’t care less about why she’s screaming even when her throat starts bleeding while her vocal chords start tearing apart.

As I stare at the ceiling, I can vividly see everything that happened like it is just happening now. It seems like my memory is flashing through a bright light source and a special magnifying lens, that even in the dark can still project a big, bright image onto this empty space on my ceiling, like I am just watching a movie.

It is from a memory when I was only six years old. My parents were killed in front of me. I witnessed how they died… every detail, no matter how big or small, relevant or immaterial they were, I can remember them all. Imagine how a six year old could take it. How can somebody be so heartless that they could take lives just like that? I was hiding under the bed. My mom instructed me and told me to stay quiet. For three years, I didn’t talk after that. She told me not to say anything no matter what happens. So I listened. I followed her orders. When I was under the bed, I could hear my dad saying “Stop! Please! Don’t do it. I’m begging you.” Then I watched as my uncle heartlessly shot both of my parents on their foreheads. A six year old couldn’t fathom everything that she saw. She couldn’t understand why her mother’s brother would do such a thing. Were her parents bad people? Do they deserve to die?

My father told me that God is a loving God and He won’t let His children suffer in pain. Is that why God took them back? Because they were already suffering too much in this world? So how about me? The next thing I saw was blood flowing from both of my parents’ heads where the bullets went through. I heard about six gunshots. My uncle didn’t stop shooting them even though it was completely obvious that they were already dead. I covered my mouth with both of my hands so that I couldn’t scream. I was trying so hard not to make any sound until my uncle would leave.

That was the scariest night of my life.

I have been an orphan ever since.

This wasn’t the life my parents planned for me. I was enrolled in an expensive school for kindergarten. I had lots of friends. My parents were very proud of me because I excelled in school. My teachers loved me. We were so happy living the best life anyone could have ever dreamed of.

I didn’t expect that the good days would be that short.

For two days, I didn’t leave the spot where my mom told me to hide. I stayed there until our neighbors found me. I don’t know if I slept at all but I was sure that I had nothing to eat nor drink. I couldn’t even cry. The first night was surreal. I wasn’t completely accepting of it yet. I was still hoping that what happened was just a nightmare and that my parents would wake up, stand up, and pull me out of that bed. But the second night came and they still weren’t moving. That was when I knew that I wasn’t dreaming. God took my parents from me. He wanted me to be alone. I don’t know His plans but it was clear that He wanted me to suffer. He might have seen how happy our lives were and He decided that it wasn’t fair for everybody to have someone like me living a perfect life.

Two days after the crime, our neighbors found me still curled up with my hands over my mouth, still in that same position that I was the moment my uncle fired gunshots at my parents. I remembered a man wearing a police uniform pulling me out. I didn’t have any strength left to resist the pull. I was only six! Of course I was light so they managed to pull me out of there in ease. They made me sit on a chair outside our house. I could see the police going in and out of our front door. They wrapped the house with yellow tape to serve as a physical barrier and secure the crime scene. I heard people talking and saying how much of a poor girl I was for having both of my parents killed. At that moment, I thought it was better if I didn’t survive. Maybe I’d get to be with my mom and dad in heaven… if there really is one.

A woman gave me something to eat. It was a very cold bowl of porridge that tasted awful but I didn’t mind because I was so hungry. I could still remember the taste of burnt ginger.

I fell asleep on that chair. But when I woke up, I was already in an orphanage. Here. And for ten years, I still couldn’t get out of here.