Have you been sent( 2 )

I always had a softspot for eschatology and seeing that by the age of 8 i was already exposed to alot,my urge for research on this grew. Memory is something beautiful we might say,but beauty is relative. She remembered. I had broken the bonds of her temporary memory loss, awakening her once virgin eyes again. She remembered the tears she shed when she was on a bed alone but the feeling on her neck; the strangling feeling of strong thick hands, squeezing, slowly limiting her breathing. She remembered trying to scream but her own voice was segregated from her and near-by ears alike. At this point in the conversation, she's warmed up to me, at least she was not screaming anymore. She had a confused and paranoid look though, searching, as if trying to see the unseen. Her memories took her back to childhood days, when she had been in the middle of strong spiritual battles. We had a connection now, her and i. I made her know she was not alone. Paranoia still kept creeping in and it was understandable. Prayers never seemed to leave her mouth but her preference in times of fear was the underside of the table, huddled up. She felt like someone had frogmarched her soul somewhere, but leaving her behind, under a table, hollow. Meeting someone who had seen or felt these spiritual battles had never happened for her. There was not a single soul who talked about spiritual warfare, instead, those close to her subscribed to bedtime stories with the ending the same as always; go to sleep, what you see and feel is not real, if you think about it, you will go mad. These words for a young child to hold are haunting, seeing as night after night what she saw was supposedly 'not real.' All that she believed in faded away, all that she hoped for, a word, a reassurance, they all fled from her presence and to her, hope became a myth. How could it be that now, of all times, someone who was not insane, not fearful, had been exposed to the same? As her guard lowered, so did her fear. We read scripture now, we prayed; she had not prayed truthfully in years. Her tears dried and calmness was restored. I stopped being the freaky guy and became a friend, a prayer partner, a confidant. She opened her eyes again but this time, she had nothing to fear. She chose to believe in He that vanquishes fear. She chose, for the first time ever, she made her own choice to believe. Fear would no longer bind her and the thoughts of insanity were banished from the kingdom of her mind. She opened a can of tuna, boiled some rice and made some curry. While making the tuna, she turned and said 'you know, God is showing me that im not as invisible as i thought, that not everything is just me and my family, that there is more beyond the view of the eyes, that He is there. Maybe, just maybe, my prayers have been answered and you have been sent even without your knowledge.' She breathed in then out, slowly, smiled then turned. Maybe, just maybe, i had been sent, even without my knowledge.