...

Here we are God, we're broken and bruised. But God, if You want the mess we are, if You will take us in the many pieces we bring before you, they're Yours. Our broken hearts, we lay before You. Our fears and failures, Father we lay them down before You. We don't want to doubt anymore God, we know You're a healer, and we accept that healing. These broken pieces, these wounds that have been torn open again and again, God we want you to heal us. We want You God, and You alone. All the other junk in the world, all of our struggles, all of our accomplishments, they don't mean a thing God. We're leaving them behind and walking into Your arms.

We can't pretend we're alright, we are hurting so much. We've pushed you away for way too long. We've tried to do it our own way too many times. We've turned to other things Father, and it's time we let them go. Tonight, we claim your freedom over our lives. We will not be held hostage by anything, but Your love, bind us with Your love. God, we need You. We need You so badly. Speak to us tonight, we want to hear You. We want to see You. And Father, we want to feel You... We need to feel You.

Eh...

I watched the flames crash over the old house like never ending waves. It's odd, isn't it? The same thing you live for can be the very thing that destroys everything around you. With a deep breath, I pulled a gas mask over my face and said a quick prayer. It's not difficult to break into a place that is already burning down, so I kicked in the door and carefully surveyed my surroundings. This wasn't my fight, why should I worry? Yet sometimes the battles that are hardest are those the people closest to you are lost in. Flames spilled out of the room to my right. I remembered nights spent staying up all hours, talking through everything we didn't understand. I never thought it would be like this to watch our memories fade. I didn't have time to think about that though. As fire sparked over my head, I fell to the floor. Hurry up, I thought to myself, hurry up. I moved slowly down the hall. Hello, is anyone in here? A faint cry for help seemed to lift out of the floor boards. I crawled in further until the floor seemed to give out below me. Quickly backing away, I peered into this chasm to the basement. Help, I heard the weak voice again. It was coming from the basement. I glanced over at the stairs where the floor had caved in. So much for that idea. I had a rope ladder on my pack, not the best idea in the midst of a fire, but right now I had no choice. Fastening it to a sturdy pipe, I hesitantly crawled down. It was only a matter of seconds before I found my friend. My eyes filled with tears as I looked at her, so lifeless and alone. Quickly making my way to her side, she watched me with wide eyes. As I reached her, she couldn't say a word, but simply collapsed in my arms with her remaining energy. I knew I needed to get her out, and fast. Grabbing her tightly, I began the ascent up the ladder. It felt like an hour before I finally got us to the top. Stopping for a quick breath at the top, I was soon working my way back through the house. C'mon friend, just a little further, we'll make it. The breath of air as soon as I rushed out that door was possibly the most satisfying burst of air I had ever breathed. Situating my friend against a tree, a little ways from the flames, I ran back into the house. I didn't think anyone else was home, but I had to make sure. The ladder was still hanging precariously over the hole. I scurried down it, not thinking twice about what I was doing. Luckily the basement was small, and I had it searched quickly. No one. I let out a relieved sigh and went to find the ladder. Grabbing onto the bottom, I looked up and gasped. The flames found their way to the outside of the hole. Now I was stuck, exactly where I just helped my friend escape, unsure of where to go. It wasn't worth screaming above the roaring flames. There seemed to be nothing to do but watch as the fire spread towards me, shaking its angry fist in bursts of smoke. I looked up through the hole one more time, and as the ladder burned, hold on, I heard you say hold on.

...

I sat somewhat awkwardly on the hard plastic chair. What kind of comfort were they trying to provide anyways? There was an open couch in the small room, but I couldn't bring myself to sit in it. Couches are for watching movies. You sit in couches with your best friend, laughing over absolutely nothing. Couches are comfortable, right now I wasn't. And I refused to sit on the couch.

I pulled my legs up under me, watching the different people in the room. I should know who they were. A friend of my mom's, a staff member, someone from church maybe? I glanced up as my father walked into the room, breaking the awkward silence. Do I want to see her? What kind of question was that? Yes, I want to go watch my sister, barely grasping life. I want to hear the whirring machines, announcing there isn't much time left. I kept a neutral face, hardly moving, hoping that would be enough of an answer.

I wasn't sure if I should be angry or thankful for the clock on the wall. The steady ticking told me that time wasn't speeding up, but at least it wasn't slowing down either. Are you still holding on, Mary? Another minute passed. Are you thinking of home? Do you know how near the end is? I sighed, resituating myself in the plastic cocoon. Silent conversations blew a somber tone into the room. "She won't make it through the night."

Of course, I knew that. We wouldn't be here if it wasn't for that thing called death. But then death seems to be the one concept that makes people truly care. Who knows where all these people were before, but now that there was a timeframe, everyone was interested. Maybe it's because no one really understands life in the first place, that they have to look at death for a reason. Yet I don't think all the intelligence in the universe could ever truly get it.

It's funny how much life someone so lifeless can have. Yet in just a second, it all disappears. Did I not have enough faith? Maybe I should have let myself feel something, anything. Everyone says it's okay to cry, that you don't have to pretend to be strong, but does anyone truly believe that? I may have just watched my family die with my sister, but I couldn't let that happen to me too. Someone has to stay strong. I guess that someone was me this time. I was okay with that.

I hated that I didn't know anyone at the funeral. I wonder how many of them Mary actually knew. How many of them were truly around for her when she needed someone to talk to? Who had been a shoulder for her when she needed to cry? I wanted to tell everyone to go home. To say that Mary didn't need them anymore. "She won!" I would yell, "Cancer lost yet another battle... she won..." I could shout it through tears, to anyone who would listen. My voice would trail off at the end... Would anyone listen?

But I remained silent.