Lucy

by Krystell Dianne Parcon

Today is the day God called us all, His angels. He will assign us very special people to discern. "Who did you get?" other angels are discussing beside me. "I got George, he's an 89-year-old veteran. His wife Rachelle died and entered heaven yesterday." "I got Delia, she’s a black woman in her 30's. A mother of twelve also. I think she needs some help. A miracle, I suppose." "Lucky me, I got Eloise. She's a church girl, she's also a choir member." "How about you?" they asked me.

I unrolled the slate that God gave me, and read the whole thing written on it. "Lucy. Thirty-one and will be released from the prison for murder today."

I am by no means complaining even though I am so confused. What do I do with a delinquent? I have met thousands -- No, millions of them, and they are unbelievably scary. Their rage, their unreleased pain, and their hostility are unnerving. But I know as mighty as He is, only God knows what makes this person special.

I stood from afar as Lucy walks from the prison gate. She carries her bag, and as sad as it is to me, nobody was waiting for her outside. Not even a single thing breathing was there to fetch her from her release. How unpleasant is this woman? That no one is even happy she got out. By the way, don't fret. She has me.

I snapped my fingers and I immediately became an old man driving a taxi. I drove to her and horned. I lowered my window and looked at her. "I never called for one," she said. Oh, at least she's honest. "God's mercy, Mia," I replied in a full smirk.

"I asked for His help yet a taxi arrived?" she asked raising an eyebrow. "Anyway, I can't walk far so He must be listening." She opened my car's door and hopped inside. "Where to?" "St. Tolentine Orphanage Home."

Orphanage? I started the engine and drove. I channeled this automotive to move to where this woman wanted. I looked at her through the rear mirror and she's already sleeping. I can feel no harm or even a little rage from this woman but a very huge sadness, I can feel it through her. She has this innate weak and tired soul but I should never forget she's a murderer.

After a long drive, the car stopped in front of this white beautiful house. And a big sign stating the name of the orphanage home she told me. "We're here."

I woke her up.

She slowly opened her eyes and looked around. When she realized we are in front of the orphanage, she suddenly galloped in her seat. I felt a beam of genuine excitement inside her. "Here, take this. It's all I have." She handed me a few dollars that can't even buy me a proper meal. "You paid me earlier. I think you forgot, Mia."

I lied. "That's weird." She whispered but moved on into carrying her bags and opening the door. She got out of the car.

When she turned her back, I snapped my fingers again and shifted back into my real form. The taxi and the man disappeared and I'm, again an angel her eyes cannot decipher to see.

Why is she here?

Why here?

After a moment of tailing her, she sat down on a bench in a garden where

the orphans are happily playing around.

Suddenly, three children walked up to us, two boys and a girl. Basing on their hair which is blonde like Lucy's, they're her family. "Mommy!" they exclaimed to hug her. "Will daddy come back?" "Not anymore, honey." Lucy cried. "You are all safe with me now."

I stood there in disbelief, and in a blink, I'm already beside God. "She killed her husband, didn't she?" I asked in the weakest voice I have. "When he locked their children inside and tried to burn the house," God answered. "Sometimes, humans create something they never meant to create. When she saw what's happening, the fear of losing her children ruled over her and she protected them. She might've done a grave sin but she has repented, and 'he who asks for forgiveness, will be forgiven."

Yearning by Reinhardt Firmeza