“The Little Girl Survived.”

“Get this girl in the car!” I hustled the driver, “She’s DYING!” my tone was at the brink of breaking.

“We can’t.” He shook his head in an Indonesian vogue, even his tongue was,”the nearest hospital is to cross the military border.”

I slammed the car, leaving a dent out of desperation, “Can’t you see a life that I am holding at my back?” the Indonesian turned a blind eye on him, “She’s dy…”

“So what?” he interjected, tinged with fear, quivering tone, “I don’t want to get myself killed.”

The sky shook with thunders, shrouded in the new-found darkness, it started pouring, “Get out.” stoically stern, he was reluctant to move, “GET OUT!” I shoved him out of his seat, he did not see that coming, flinging him a few feet across the jeep. I’m going to save you, no matter what. I whispered into the little girl’s ear, revving up the engine quick enough to flee the Indonesian who was cursing in his tongue, stomping the ground with anger, constantly shouting ‘crazy’ in the dust.

I was a missionary, this was my job, to save lives, to touch lives, by being the vessel of His grace and miracles. The little girl was bleeding severely, losing the redness from her body at a freakish speed, her blood coagulated at the front seat, forming cakes of blood, she was dying, a few steps closer to death, the inevitable, at such a young age.

Her case of bleeding was abnormal, ordinary medical skills were insufficient, an intense care and closer medical attention were her only hopes, one of the silver cords attached to her brittle soul.

Cough! Cough! The dashboard was covered in blood, Cough! Cough! KWAKK! as if her lungs were about to be coughed out, it did not stop. Her coughs were a sign of her life force, if she stopped, that would be more worrying. I uttered a silent prayer to Him, focusing on driving through the shortest undulated pathway to the hospital, accompanied with the throes of her, Cough!

The road was flickering with a ball of light, snowballing into a prominent lighthouse, It’s probably an outpost… I have no more time. I slammed the accelerator, sent the jeep flying across the sky, skipping through a few uneven grounds at one shot, landing on the flat lands, exposed. It was the military borders.

Sirens were blaring, my heart was pounding, adrenaline rushing, her coughing did not stop yet, more blood. Lights deluged the vicinity, cloaked the jeep, a couple of gun shots were fired. The jeep was armed with a speaker, I frantically jumped start the speaker, gunned the engines fiercely, giving the jeep more momentum.

“I NEED THE HOSPITAL! THIS GIRL IS DYING!” BUMP! The jeep was skidding through the moist grounds imprinted by the rain, the steering was out of my control, my left hand locked the little girl unto her seat, I prayed, embracing everything that was about to happen. The weight of the jeep was impaled to right, one of the tyres was out, the jeep came to a halt, the inertia bumped us into the steel interior of the jeep.

A flood of lights swathed me, my consciousness was near broken, the little girl had a huge gash on her forehead, I raised both of my hands to the back of my head, “GET THIS GIRL TO THE HOSPITAL!” I shouted, a few armed to the teeth soldiers marched in, “GET THIS GIRL TO THE HOSPITAL!” the men did not open fire, they lowered their guns,


I cried, I was broken. Help me. I implored. Help her.

The next few minutes were in blur, my mind was shutting off, I was still crying for help, the lights were blinding, the gossamer thread of silver cord was reinforced with the unstoppable faith, binding lives back into pieces.

Prying open my eyes, only to see the florescent white light gushing into my sight, a nurse stood in front of me, fixing my bandages.

“The little girl survived.”


Craving for more? Down below:
Sotto Voce
You Are A Mustard Seed of Miracles
Broken Silver Cord
Shalom (Finale)
Tapering Hope
Temporary. Gone. Forever.
Paper Plane Pursuit

Published by zeckrombryan

Hope. Joy. Feelings cloaked as words.

22 thoughts on ““The Little Girl Survived.”

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