Thunder In Heaven

Avianna Lemonier

Chapter 1
When does a mother's love become conditional?
Do wealth and social status play a role in the extent to which a child is loved?
Why do some children get to bathe in the brightness of love while others are only allowed to taste the smallest fragments of its sweetness?
Her life was golden. Her hair was curly and wild. Her eyes were bright with the serenity that comes with a life that is filled with the finest things that life has to offer.
But her soul was sad.
Beneath the confines of her heart, she was carrying a heavy weight that had latched on to her since her childhood years, refusing to let her enjoy the beauty that surrounded her little world.
Her mother was ruthless. A domineering woman who had schemed and fought to climb to the highest peak that life could bring her to.
But, on the way up, she had forgotten how to be a mother.
She had forgotten how important love could be to a child in need.
Their home was grand and majestic. From the finish of the furniture to the paint on the walls, everything had been laid in place with care and tact.
Her mother was proud.
She was proud of what she had accomplished, what she had made out of a life that had begun in the most impoverished conditions.
But she, herself, felt hollow. There was always something missing.
There was always something beating within her ears, wailing like an abandoned child left to wander the streets alone.
Sometimes, when she looked in the mirror, she caught a glimpse of it. She caught a glimpse of a lonely little girl hiding behind big, grown-up eyes and an exterior surface that should have been comfortable living in a world of luxury.

Chapter 2
One cold autumn night, she sat in front of her mirror staring quizzically at her reflection.
She thought about every memory that had accompanied her on her journey to adulthood.
She wondered about the lives that she'd come across, the lovers she had had and the pain that she had somehow managed to overcome.
Without intending to, her mind wandered back to the old wooden house where she had spent most of her childhood years.
Her memory of that place was fading, but she could still sense the peace that laid within the fragile walls of that small house.
Here, in this grand house, she was given every luxury that her mother could afford but she was, still, painfully empty without the peace that she had known in that former home.
Her mind wandered to a memory of another child. A beautiful little girl with flowing hair and eyes that were bright with innocence and childlike happiness.
Her memory wandered to the happiness that she had felt when she was with that little girl. The joy of that memory brought a mixture of contentment and sadness into her heart.
That little girl seemed to be a fixture in her memory now. A fixture that she couldn't quite place as ever having been real.
This little girl must have been some imaginary friend. Some product of her imagination.
Because, no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't make out what had become of that happy little child.
It was as if she had, one day, vanished into thin air - never to be seen or heard from again.

Chapter 3
In certain corners of the world, ghosts are not taken lightly.
Paranormal occurrences are not dealt with in a passive manner. They are tackled and confronted with violent opposition.
They are challenged with a mixture of fear and indignation.
But, to her, the paranormal had always offered her some sense of relief from being alone.
So when the lights began to flicker in her room at night, she shrugged it off and almost hoped that something exciting would happen.
When her eyes began to beam with a strange hint of darkness and malevolence, she ignored it.
Then, her heart began to grow cold in the strangest way. It was as if some otherworldly being had suddenly found its way into her soul.
Her emotions numbed.
Her hands began to grow cold and stiff. Her movements became mechanical.
Within a week, her old way of being was gone.
Her mother didn't notice.
But every time she looked in the mirror, she could tell that something was amiss.
But she didn't try to stop it. She didn't know how. She simply allowed herself to succumb to the weight of that dark, heavy thing until her mind, as she once knew it, was completely gone.

Chapter 4
Somewhere in the confines of her memory, there was the voice of a crying child wondering where their mother had gone.
It was a small voice. A voice that could barely quiet a loud and roaring room.
It was a voice that was being ignored and pushed aside like the ringing sound of cattle being pushed toward an empty field.
Try as she might, she could never place where that sound had come from.
But her soul knew that it bore some significance to a painful memory that she had somehow managed to bury beneath her psyche.
It's fascinating the way that the mind has the ability to replace the things that we aren't comfortable with acknowledging.
Her mind had done just that. It had pushed aside the memory of a little girl being ripped from her own arms.
A sister, someone that she had loved, being carried away from her home and dragged into the darkness of forced forgottenness.
That lovely little girl from her memory wasn't just a memory. She was an apparition.
The phantom appearance of a taboo secret that her mother had desperately tried to keep from her all those years.
It had worked - for a time.
But, now, that memory was being brought back up in the most sinister way.
It was coming to the surface and demanding to be acknowledged like thunder sounding through the halls of heaven.
Her mother's worst secret had never died. The human body bearing it had been silenced. But the secret continued to live on.
That secret was one that wasn't content to continue living in darkness.
It demanded to be confronted and its vengeful streak was demanding some form of justice - and it would be rewarded with its due prize.

Chapter 5
Evil people never suspect that their time is coming.
They dance around the subject of justice. They skirt around the idea that, somewhere, their most criminal victims are laying in the ashes of their actions waiting for some form of revenge.
But when that justice does come, it is swift and effective.
Like a blade running across skin, it cuts to the core - leaving no room for healing.
The swift knife of justice ran through the hallways of that house and it stopped at the room of the woman that had dug its open grave.
It opened the door to her room and it stood silently, staring as she slept peacefully.
It wrapped its hands around her neck and squeezed until the life had been forced out of her lungs.
Then, it turned and walked out into the hallway and waited.
The blackness that had engulfed her mind had been waiting for years to accomplish what it did in only a few hours. It had been waiting for the right chance to strike.
It had been waiting for some sort of vulnerability in its host.
Just like that, on a cold autumn night, justice was served in the form of murder brought about by the hands of the child that had been chosen as the survivor.
The body that had been stripped of life lay in its place for days until a concerned friend made their way into the home to see what had become of the loving family that had grown eerily silent in the past few days.
But there was no living soul present to tell the story.
The woman was gone, and her dead mother would never be able to recount the tale of how she had met her final end.

Chapter 6
She went on that way for the rest of her life.
The person that she had once been never did resurface.
Some strange form of retribution had occurred.
Now, there was someone else taking over her life.
Before, it had been her mother - always strategizing her next step, always calculating her decisions for her.
Now, there was something far more ominous making choices for her. Something that wouldn't be denied of its desires.
She went on to marry and have several children, after taking on a new identity and moving far away from the comfortable, luxurious home she had once known.
No one ever suspected a thing. Not her husband. Not her children. Not her neighbors.
No one ever suspected that the beautiful woman with the picturesque home and the perfect family wasn't exactly who she claimed to be.