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A tear tattooed beneath her Earth-Native eye—shared.

Shared, what did that mean?

Hurt.

Shared hurt.

Meaning has no meaning, her professor said.

She said she didn’t buy that.

That, he told her, she must buy.

Buying, she refused, and refusal meant loss.

Loss: Seeming failure as she fought the system.

Deceived-deceivers. All dying inside. Blind in a cave, to use an analogy.

Death

They were dying all around her and she couldn’t save them, no matter how often she held up her hand and softly-spoke, strongly-spoke out Truth in class.

She felt the weight of sorrow.

Her heart had broken as her friend had walked away, happy and confident—lies tattooed on her face—her mask.

When her friend had walked away, she had buried her face in her hands and wept—the devil had drawn away yet another child. It was her friend’s choice, and there was nothing she could do about it but pray, and pray, and pray. Why had her friend chosen that path?

She had taken on a giant.

And by God, she wasn’t going to lose.

The giant leered. She stumbled. It called her out on every mistake she had ever made. It told her to fear the mistakes she would make. All the times she had blundered while seeking out answers and God.

Looking, seeking; Answers.

There are none, her professor said.

If there weren’t answers, she replied to him, unraveling his words, Then life is pointless.

Exactly, he said.

She bowed her head, and prayed.

 

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