Creative Story about pain and success
 

So i am mainly a lurker, you all are so creative! it makes me kinda self conscious. Here is a story I wrote earlier this year about the pain i was going through. It has strong Christian elements. Sorry. I cling to faith when all my walls crumble like that. Yeah... sorry

STRUGGLING
I’m struggling. How could I not be with all of these voices, and feelings, and demons haunting me? I have reached out to Him. He is my first and best ally and I know to call to Him. With His warm smiling reassurance set in my heart I had been able to continue onward through my daily life. Hiding the tears welling up in my mind. The comfort has slowly begun to be hidden, slowly chipping away like a great marble statue under acid fizzing and sputtering with intensity, but etching away with wear.
“Princess you must have failed Him, why else would this hurt so much?” the villainous words ringing so true that they are heard with my physical ears.
The pieces of my heart that are closest to Him try to rebel against such hideous sayings “I am His, He has helped me through some of this pain, He is there” reasoning and reassuring as loudly as possible.
“No Princess, no, He is letting you break. He is hurting you, He should save you. If you were really His He would save you, but you are not. You are feeble and weak, you are not His.” Claws appearing from the words inching nearer to my flesh, becoming more real as each breath passes my lips.
The beautiful fires that He had nourished in my soul, fed diligently through all other dark cold nights are being drenched with doubt. “He stands by me” my heart feebly tries to persuade my roaring ears.
Chuckling fangs clatter soured feelings into my ears. “So where is He now? During this time of pain, He stands ambivalent, or worse with His back turned. Your pleas ignored”
My worst fears being voiced by devils encircling me. Trapping my thoughts. Halting my prayers. How could He? Shouldn’t I, one of His, be protected?
Cackling answers my doubts.
Through the stream of tears I realize I am no longer in my own room sobbing, tearing at a pillow, I am in a pasture. Cool grass with dew warmed off by the sun under my soles and the sweet smell of distant pine is tingling my flaring nostrils. Confusion add further sting to my eyes. This is one of our places. One of the safe peaceful treasures where I can be with Him.
“He is mocking you Princess. Bringing you to a place of peace as you fall apart. The irony of it Princess. He is a sarcastic and ironic God.” The devil spits out the last word with energy.
“No” I whimper to the soft grass. “Please no, Lord please no, please let mercy find me Lord.”
More vicious laughter. It is no longer a phantom of doubt but a crowd of demons that feed on my pain. Their beings becoming firmer and more real with every agonized sputter of mine.
I feel the grass pulse beneath my feet, not heavy from more weight or passing storm, but joy. Anticipation.
“Even His creation is enjoying your torment, what does that say about Him?” The voice has changed but I can’t place the intonation. My thoughts are too crowded. Towers of feelings are crumbling under the crushing weight of thoughts and fears.
Then a familiar voice calls “Little One” I can’t place it.
“You are little, you are frail” The demons are agitated? Something is encouraging their voices to rise and something is urging their speed.
“My Little One.”
It is Him! He has not left me. I gaze up hoping to see His scarred hands right before me ready to lift me up and carry me to safety from these evils. He is not there however. My eyes begin to search around me frantically. He is here. He must be here.
“He isn’t here,” they mock.
“Where are you?!?!” I shriek. How could He speak and then leave me? The legions of evil that are descending on my sore soul are not enough for comfort?
“My child, My Little One!” His voice reaches my ears. It is not how I have ever heard it. The calm sweetness has been replaced by something new. He is crying out to me.
My wet chapped face again rises so my eyes can gain a better view of all that is before me. The tears are blurring my vision.
“He should be here with you. If you were His He would be. He would clear the rain from those orbs”
“Shut up!” I scream desperate to silence the pain long enough to find Him.
“In front of you Child!” He is beckoning me. “Trust me Little One. Come to me. In front of you” His voice is tense. Which only adds to my confusion.
The obedient earth ripples forwards the green blades flattening, straining to follow the direction.
“Is that His idea of comfort?” I can feel the teeth against my ears. Barbs tangling in my hair and claws preparing to clasp onto me.
The last flicker of faith urges me forward. I bring up my left foot and place it in front of the right. Shifting my weight in the direction of His voice.
“No Princess!” The voice seethes into me. “What awaits you? Comfort? A hero’s welcome? Or perhaps more of Hell? You are in Hell Princess aren’t you? We bring comfort too. We know this agony. He left us. We want to save you from such trickery”
I clench my teeth as I raise my right foot and place it farther forward. And then lift my left heel.
Shrilling shrieks filled with slime and gore pour over me. Their raking claws find my back. Mercilessly they begin to rip at me. The new incentive to escape, to avoid the sting of their razors and whips, hurries my movements onwards.
“You did something wrong Princess” They hiss. “You must have. He punishes those that disobey. You were wrong. You have sinned”
That lash hits my back hard and heavy flattening me to my knees. Wires wrap around my wrists biting the skin and binding them to me.
“Little One rise up. Come to me Child, my child” He calls to me. Even more urgency, if not desperation tinges His sweet voice.
“So He can see you, but is hidden? Can you trust someone who is locked away in a closet? Out of reach?” The devils pulling at me are playing off of old fears that had almost died.
“Rise” I whisper as I try to stand. Large strong hands force me back to the ground. They are trying to capture me. Block Him from me.
“My Child!” He cries for me.
“Rise” I whimper. I balance my weight on my hands and knees. Grass tickling sweetly as I grasp it, unearthing it, in my desperation to continue onwards.
Their rank breath spills down my spine causing me to convulse and shrink against it. Foul tastes as well as sounds tamper with my mind. My heart trusting dearly in Him for its next beat. Their hands begin to reach inside me. Finding my once strong spirit and begin to pull at it. Tugging it, tearing it. Pain like none other is destroying me. Worse I begin to believe the demons. His goodness His grace could be snatched away. Perhaps I had fouled up. Perhaps sins that had yet to be reconciled were causing this torment; that is how He was able to leave me in my fallen state.
“Little One” the tender name of comfort He had given me the memory of His voice fills my mind “Mine, oh my Little One” a sweet reassurance that was only reserved for the most tender of moments of faith or healing.
On instinct my body shakily lunges forwards. My lungs filling with air. The air He has given me.
“Oh, but the smell Princess”
The demons’ note brings the laden air to focus. Burning flesh and hair mixing with destruction and full of rage was what I had inhaled. What had made me think of Him?
“My Child” His voice sounds strained and tired.
No. He is warm and lovely. Full of splendor and elegance. Left hand forward. The earth beneath me is rolling forward. It, restrained by all natural laws is disobeying for Him, to reach Him. I am left floundering. Not able to obey.
Another crack of a whip sharp as glasses brings my body flat against the ground. More claws instantly descend ripping farther into my heart. The beautiful things He had painted in my mind being wrecked with blood and screaming.
“Little One I can see you. Come to me. I am here”
“Lord” un-annunciated through a sob, but clear enough for Him. “Mercy” I whimper.
“Little One you have to fight them. Come to me.” He continues to urge. His voice instead of rising above those of the devils is coming down lower to me.
“Save”
“Safe with me, Come.” His voice deliberate.
I pull my arms from where they had crumpled under me and rise to my knees again. Before I can find my balance a phantom pulls me down using the wires on my wrists and my ankles. A great piece of my soul comes loose as I land. A number of demons leave me to feast on their kill.
I pull my elbows out and while still flat pull my self forwards. Daring a chance to look upwards. He is there, gleaming. A rough hand yanks my hair forcing my eyes to the dirt.
He seems miles away. With the force of Hell blocking my path how am I to reach Him? I am sick with pain and ache. Sting and burning are covering my flesh in waves. My inner being is in shreds and I still am not with Him. Weighing heavier on my mind is that once I reach Him will He leave. Surrounded by Hell that I must have caused. Would He love me still? Didn’t He over come it all?
What is left of my heart tries to make His triumph more real “Defeated Hell” My voice thick with blood. “Reach me”
“Yes Child I did. I am here. Little One come to me.”
“Princess, if He is who He says shouldn’t He stop this? Isn’t He one for mercy? For joy? For bliss? Will He not come to you? No! He is forcing you to struggle to Him. You can’t make it. Not for Him. What has He done?”
I shriek as another piece of my heart is torn out. “NO!”
I hear His tears “You are mine child. I Love you, I made you, trust me. Come to me.”
My body again is brought up. I can see His feet. He is near.
Pull. Shift. Forward. Collapse. Rise. Pull. Shift. Forward. It becomes a rhythm. The demons circling Hell descending as I: Rise. Pull. Shift. Collapse.
I cannot make my fallen limbs rise another time. I’ve lurched, I’ve tried. I scream as agony, the agony that was boiled from my soul, pours out of mouth. I’ve failed.
“Remember this day” a voice full of wickedness licks my ear, and then the voices shrink away leaving but one.
“Little One” His strong arms are around me. I feel Him gathering me into His safe lap. “Oh my Little One” He coos into my ear. Sweet relief floods me. Pains and pangs feel slightly numbed. His voice isn’t rebuilding as it usually does. It is only smoothing the rough edges. I am confused.
“Not now Little One” He stops my shifting to ask Him. I feel His hands cover my wrists raw and red from invisible chains.
I try to stammer. Pain is still to strong in my being for me to muster more than “ow” He is holding me gently.
“I know child. I know my Little One. Oh my Little One. You came to me.” His warm tears start to wash my dirtied blooded hair. His face gently resting close to mine. I can feel His sweet breath on my torn skin.
“Far?” I gasp. I am desperate to understand. I am feeling safe now, but what if He leaves me? Now that I am being healed will He be called away? Are the demons right? I caused this? I am fallen. Can He hold such wickedness once the pain dulls?
“You came farther than you could ever imagine child. My Little One, you did nothing wrong. You are here. I am not leaving you. You are mine.”
I look up. His face is honest, wet, and concerned. Questions begin to hammer within my brain, but He passes His hand over my eyes closing my lids, and I drift to sleep. My last waking memory is of Him kissing my crown gently.


Responses appreciated. Hope i didn't offend or anything.