Tag Archives: evil

Our 250th Fourth of July! πŸŽ†πŸŽ‡πŸ§¨πŸ—½

It’s Independence Day, everyone!

This is my first Fourth of July here on WordPress, so I’m very excited to move on with this post. Today we celebrate 250 years since the Declaration of Independence was first signed. We call ourselves the United States of America, and we celebrate the freedom of all men.

But are we truly united?

There has been a past history of violence, war, bloodshed, discrimination, superiority, and inferiority. Slave traders, emperors who have exploited their people, and soldiers who gave their lives for our freedom still remain in the timeline of our history. And even now, with the sudden popularity of abortion, racism, and LGBTQ+, it makes me wonder. . .have we ever actually gotten anywhere with our so-called unitedness? Have we actually accomplished our goal of “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness?”Β 

Somehow, I don’t think we have.

What happened to the days of presidency, when you could not be elected unless you were a true Christian?

What happened to those who believed life was sacred and protected unborn babies from being so ruthlessly murdered?

What happened to the pastors who truly longed to protect their flocks from the evil doctrines of Satan that could potentially creep into their churches and break their congregations?

What happened to those who believed God commanded marriage to be between one man and one woman for one lifetime?

So tell me, reader. . .are we united?

The answer is no.

In no way are we united.

We are all disunited.

We have lost the true purpose and meaning of our life. . .Jesus Christ.

He gave us freedom when we were slaves to sin.

He washed us when we were stained with sin.

He loved us even when we hated Him.

So why are we being immoral and corruptible to His laws? Do our own sick pleasures and morals really mean that much to us? Just look around! Babies are being killed because no one cares for the sanctity of human life. Diseases are rapidly spreading and killing those who are involved in immoral relationships because they never cared enough to read their Bibles. Presidents and government leaders are calling good evil and evil good.

What’s happened to our nation?!

I’ll tell you.

We the People of the United States have personally rejected Jesus as our King and care nothing for His laws or statutes. We wish to do as we feel and think and it does not matter how we hurt others or ourselves. Our only purpose in life is to enjoy today because we do not know if we will wake up alive tomorrow.”

And there you have it.

If we want to be united, we have to work together to be united, people!

Otherwise. . .

What’s the point of being the United States?

~

If we want to be united, we must serve the One Who allowed our nation to be free in the first place.

Happy Fourth of July, everyone!

God bless!

-Starmonia

Down

The stars in the sky shimmered as the fireflies flickered and darted back and forth among the crowd of onlookers at the July 4th party being held in the Cappy Town square. But amidst the laughter and cheery chatter from the Cappies, there was a hint of discomfort and unease. Though they were now freed from Nightmare, thanks to the Halberd crowd, some felt a strange darkness still lay over their peaceful land.

Unfortunately. . .

. . .they were more right than they knew.

~Β  Β ~Β  Β ~

On the outskirts of the town, nestled on a little house, was a large castle. A young woman with bright blond hair pulled back in a bun stood on her balcony, her thoughtful emerald-colored eyes as bright as the fireworks exploding in the sky. It was Tiffany Ebrum, now a beautiful woman of eighteen with two children and a wonderful husband. She recalled how when she was younger, at one interval, on New Year’s Eve, fireworks had been popping just like they were now. She, as a twelve-year-old child who loved marine biology and reading, had been standing beside her friend, Meta Knight, as Kirby battled Sasuke, a monster sent by Dedede to wreck the Cappies’ New Year’s party. The dark conversation that had taken place between her and the soldier still remained in her mind and made her frown:

“Meta Knight, what are you doing here?”

“I came to wish Kirby a Happy New Year. . .if he makes it to the New Year.”

Dark humor, Tiff repeated silently, replaying those two words over and over in her mind. Actually, Meta Knight wasn’t the only one to make use of deadpan delivery. Starmonia often used it too, in her everyday speeches, usually in response to Dedede’s insults or Escargoon’s teasing.

And tonight might play out the same way as it did on New Year’s many years ago, Tiff thought dryly, just not quite in the same way.

~Β  Β ~Β  Β ~

The fireworks burst into showers in the sky should have given everyone a sense of independence and happiness, but it only made the atmosphere melancholy. Mayor Len’s eyes traveled to the castle, to King Dedede’s bedroom. It was impossible to believe the king was dead, gone from cancer; it would be a long time before anyone would recover from his untimely demise that occurred last Christmas. Escargoon, the king’s sidekick, was later revealed to have given the king a strange drug sent from Night Mare Enterprises that killed him, slowly but painfully. Mayor Len remembered the many visits Dr. Yabui had made to the castle; the sleepless nights Tiff and her family had spent watching over the king; the many seizures and breathless nights he had endured alone; Meta Knight and his subordinates standing silently together, talking in low voices; the fear of death that overshadowed everyone in Cappy Town.

Hana seemed to sense her husband’s thoughts and placed her hand on his shoulder. “Dear, I know you miss the king,” se said in her soft voice. “We all do. But we tried our best to save him. And even if it didn’t work, we can rest in the fact that we tried our hardest to help him.”

“It was all Escargoon’s fault, anyway,” Chief Bookem grumbled. “Man, was I glad to run that slimy creep out of town!”

“I can’t believe he actually murdered our king!” Kawasaki chimed in.

“Do not condemn Escargoon,” Hana spoke firmly but quietly. “What right have we to cast the first stone?”

The others silently respected Hana’s judgment.

~Β  Β ~Β  Β ~

Standing in the castle courtyard, unwilling to join the in the Fourth of July fun, Meta Knight and his subordinates talked by the fountain. It felt too much like the days when Dedede was ill and needed constant attention. It seemed to the knights they could still see Dedede lying in bed, his face pale; Escargoon’s leering expression and the mask of sorrow he placed on whenever he walked into Dedede’s room. The anger they felt when Chief Bookem declared Escargoon the murderer of the king still roiled in their minds.

“The world will never be the same without our king,” Sword Knight declared in a mournful tone.

“Then again,” came a familiar youthful voice from behind some blackberry bushes, “all of us have our death receipts. When our time expires, so does our life.” The speaker was little Ivene, who, though so small, spoke mountains of wisdom. She stepped out from behind the thorny leaves and spoke. “Hurry, the night is drawing to a close. July 4th only comes once a year. Sometimes the best thing to take your mind off a difficult situation is to have fun.”

“Child, you must understand that such a suggestion is not for everyone who has gone through something traumatic,” Sword explained. “We are still suffering from the king’s death.”

“As am I,” Ivene said, her brown eyes clear in the starlight. The rush of fountain water seemed to back her words as it peacefully bubbled into its marble basin. “But death is just the doorway to eternal life, God says. Dedede knows and he accepted the truth at the end. So let’s be grateful, my friends.” And with that, she was off, disappearing into the warm night.

“Aye, p’haps she’s right,” Blade said. Sword agreed, glancing at Meta Knight, who nodded a little.

~Β  Β ~Β  Β ~

“You look very distant,” came a voice from behind Meta Knight.

Meta Knight turned in surprise to face Tiff, holding her one-year-old daughter, Pamela, fondly nicknamed Pamu. “I am all right,” he assured her, but his trembling voice betrayed his words.

Tiff stared at him with those same green eyes that had always pierced at his soul. He recalled all too well, when she was a child, when he had been in pain or was going through a hard time. . .if he had lied to her about how he was feeling, she would stare at him wit the look that spoke plainer than any words, “You’re lying. I know what you are saying is not true.”

Though she was not a little girl any longer, those eyes still nagged at him, tugged at his conscience. He looked up to the sky as another firework whistled, its pitch getting higher and higher, until it finally exploded. It seemed to him that was how he felt. One moment he would be soaring higher and higher into the sky of delight and peace, and then his dreams would expire, explode, leaving nothing behind by smoke and particles of what he had once dreamed of.

Tiff walked up to him, shifting her child to her other arm, and she reached out and grasped his hand in a quiet, “I’m here” motion. The touch wasn’t much, but it sparked something in him he hadn’t felt in a while. . .the feeling of knowing someone was always there, always caring, even if he didn’t know it. He turned and hugged her tightly, burying his face in her shoulder as she knelt down and embraced him gently. A light gust of wind swirled past, ruffling Tiff’s dress and rustling the soldier’s cape.

“You’re not alone,” she told him at last. “We all miss Dedede, but we all rejoice knowing he’s okay.”

Meta Knight looked full into her face and smiled at her, though she could not see it. She smiled back, almost as if she knew how he felt. Even little Pamu seemed to sense the joy of the moment and gurgled, “Happy!”

Both laughed and then stood up to go down and watch the rest of the fireworks show.

~Β  Β ~Β  Β ~

By the time the threesome reached the square, most of the fireworks had already been shot off. But the biggest display was yet to come, as Tiff knew from previous Independence Days. As she and Meta Knight stepped toward the middle of the square, hanging back from the huge firework which Buttercup, Chief Bookem’s wife, was to set off, little Ivene grinned widely, leaped onto the statue of Dedede which had been erected in his memory, and paraded along the base of the throne’s armrest, singing:

“Sometimes it’s hard to see what is in front of me
I need a hand to pull me from the shadows
No shackles on my feet, they’re just a memory
I need Your strength to rise above the shallows.”

The Cappies lifted their voices and began to sing with her.

“I’ve walked through fire and weathered pain
Felt emotion like a hurricane
There’s gotta be a better way
Hear me when I say. . .”

Tiff and her husband, Lemu, joined in with their friends. Meta Knight remained silent, watching the happy crowd.

“I was a wreck
Oh, I was shattered and bruised
Then You tore down the dark
And Your love broke through
Down on my knees
‘Cause I couldn’t be found
Now I’m filled with Your peace
As Your love comes down
Down, down, down, down, down
Down, down, down, down, down.”

Then Lemu sang solo.

“I was a broken man living in a broken land
Then You arrived, a love worthy to follow
I could’ve stayed in pain forever and a day
Then just in time, You filled up what was hollow.”

Meta Knight furrowed his brow. That sounded too much like what he had been like before God had come along and rescued him. The thought brought a smile to his lips.

“I’ve walked through fire and weathered pain
Oh, like a hurricane!

I was a wreck
Oh, I was shattered and bruised
Then You tore down the dark
And Your love broke through
Down on my knees
‘Cause I couldn’t be found
Now I’m filled with Your peace
As Your love comes down
Down, down, down, down, down
As Your love comes down
Down, down, down, down, down.”

“Let’s all sing together!” Ivene cried happily.

“I was a wreck
Oh, I was shattered and bruised
Then You tore down the dark
And Your love broke through
Down on my knees
‘Cause I couldn’t be found
Now I’m filled with Your peace
As Your love comes down!”

Meta Knight couldn’t contain himself anymore. As Buttercup struck the match and lit the fuse, he knew he had to sing and celebrate. A wave of overwhelming happiness struck him head over heels and he lifted up his voice to sing with his friends and family.

“I was a wreck
Oh, I was shattered and bruised
Then You tore down the dark
And Your love broke through
Down on my knees
‘Cause I couldn’t be found
Now I’m filled with Your peace
As Your love comes down
Down, down, down, down, down
As Your love comes down
Down, down, down, down, down!
As Your love comes
Your love comes down!”

As the huge firework exploded in a blend of red, blue, and white, everyone strongly finished out the song together:

“Down, down, down, down, down!”

“Happy Independence Day!” Ivene howled, leaping and jumping about with enthusiasm. And then Meta Knight, Tiff, and her family shared a beautiful embrace as the fireworks continued to pop around them, illuminating the warm night.

 

_Β  Β  Β _Β  Β  Β _

 

The song “Down” was written by Colton Dixon, Ben Glover, and Kyle Lee. All credit goes to them.

In Jesus’ Name

One of the first songs I heard from famous Christian song artist Katy Nichole is “In Jesus’ Name (God of Possible.)” When I was younger, I assumed it was referring to physical healing, and it does in a sense. But as I got older, I learned it referred to so much more. . .

The song is a prayer for all who are struggling, whether it be physical, mental, or emotional struggles. it reminds us that God is still working and will heal if it be His will; we just have to trust in Him and let Him carry all our burdens instead of trying to lug them around ourselves.

I pray for all who are going through hard times. . . .May the Lord change your situation if He wills it. . .

Heed the Call

If you say you walk

In the Lord’s light

But leave behind

The Devil’s night

 

If you say you know

That God loves you

And that He’s there

Yes, He hears you

 

But you push Him away

Because of pain

You see no blue skies

Only heavy rain

 

I say, giving up

Is not an option

Because He’s been there

Through thick and thin

 

Through highs and lows

Yes, He’s seen you

He knows just what

You’re going through

 

Because He is God

And He knows all

So walk in faith

And heed His call.

Why Pain Matters

Sometimes. . .

Life can drag you down.

Hard.

To the point where you can’t seem to even breathe anymore.

Sometimes. . .

You wonder if God is even listening.

If He cares.

If he loves.

Sometimes. . .

Those who doubt walk away.

But in the long run. . .

Without God. . .

Then never feel better.

They lose hope.

They despair.

They wonder what went wrong in their life.

* * *

Pain is not meant to make anyone feel unloved or uncared for.

Pain is meant to bring us closer to the One Who designated that pain for a reason.

 

And sometimes love means walking through the fire. . .

Even when it hurts.

 

* * *

quietmomentswithgodblog.wordpress.com/2026/06/25/its-time-to-walk-away/

If anyone is out here reading this, prayers for Eileen Guyadeen and her daughter, Victoria. I discovered this site through Willie Torres Jr’s prayer chain and subscribed to her blog.

I vowed to pray for her daughter and for her in every way I could.

And I do. Still.

But every message she wrote as of recently didn’t seem to reflect any faith in Christ. . .

Just despair.

But I still prayed, because I believe truly that God can make a difference if He wishes.

 

But the post above that I recently read. . .it just doesn’t fly with me. . .

I can get her feelings. I can definitely get it. I’ve been in the valley myself lots of times.

I lost my brother a long time ago; I almost died twice as a young kid; there are many in my hometown who hate me for I-don’t-know-what. And I get bothered when stuff like that happens. Sometimes I question God. Sometimes I get angry. Sometimes I want to vent my frustration but don’t know how.

But pain, though it is real and profound, is not unexpected, neither is it purposeless.

Did Jesus ever say we would escape pain? No.

Did Jesus ever promise us an easy life filled with sunshine and rainbows? No.

And yet, many people who identify as Christians believe that.

And they get frustrated or upset with God when something bad happens.

Especially if it’s been going on for years.

A rare disease.

Unresolved trauma.

The ghost of one’s past still haunting their present self.

But that doesn’t mean God doesn’t see.

Because He does.

 

A long time ago, my family was going through something terrible. My father was hospitalized, and everyone was frightened, including me.

But through that long week of waiting, sleeplessness, and the day of surgery, I discovered something very odd that never again have I really felt.

I knew my father would not die.

I don’t know how I knew. But I did.

My mother was worried he would die, and I remember repeatedly telling her he would make it out. I recall saying it with confidence, because I knew. It was as if something or Someone was telling me he would not die.

And I figured it was the Holy Spirit reassuring me, telling me he would make it out alive.

And he did, thank God!

 

Pain matters because it is what strengthen our faith in our Father (if we believe) and it is what draws those to God (if we don’t believe). The Enemy will trick us into believing pain is meant as punishment, but that is not always the case.

Sometimes pain is meant for something better. We may not know what it is, but we know God has a plan behind all suffering. We just have to wait for His timing and see what it is.

Sometimes pain is meant to draw straying people closer to the One Who endured horrible pain on the cross to win the victory over Hell and redeem us all forever!

(Go to this link to learn more about what the Bible says about pain.)

 

If anyone is acquainted with Eileen and Victoria, reach out and let them know I care, even if no one else does. (link to her blog: quietmomentswithgodblog.wordpress.com).

 

Pain may be unbearable. . .

But losing faith is not an option.

 

God bless, Eileen and Victoria.

 

 

In times of pain. . .

You might bend. . .

But if you trust in God. . .

You will never break.

Wait for His timing. . .

And He will reveal His plan.

He is God Almighty. . .

He died for us.

We should be willing to wait for His timing. . .

Because. . .

He knows us better than we know ourselves.

Amen.

 

-Starmonia

Book 4: Every Life is Beautiful

Chapter Six: You Promised

 

The rain ceased the day after Tilry’s funeral. The sun’s golden rays beamed brilliantly, drying the sodden ground and snapped plants. Cloudy numbly plodded to school, feeling as though she had been punched in the skull. Her classes passed in a blur, and her friends laughed and chatted gaily at recess. They begged Cloudy to come play with them, but she declined. Nothing frisky or genial felt right to her now that Tilry was gone. She wished it would rain again, but no such thing happened the rest of the week.

 

* * * * *

 

Days went by, and still Cloudy remained sulky and gloomy. Nothing could lift her spirits. Fun-loving Sniper, who normally could make her laugh by doing something silly, tried to cheer her up, but even her prankster brother could do nothing about her blue mood. Springtime saw the sun melt away behind the clouds of Cloudy’s life and prayed desperately to God that her daughter would once again be joyful. But day after day passed with the same results―Cloudy was sullen and didn’t want to play. She began to do poorly in her classes, and her grades dropped drastically. She barely ate or slept. Springtime continued to cry out, but with no audible reply.

Gradually, March fifteenth arrived. It was now less than a week away from Cloudy’s birthday, but the child no longer felt excited about it. The day that was supposed to be so full of festivity and mirth now swayed overhead her mind like a dark cloud that wouldn’t go away, shrouding her mind in haunting memories of shadow. Even Liloy seemed far away in her thoughts. So did Meta Knight. Often at night whenever he visited, Cloudy would see him by the fence alone, crying. At times like those, she instinctively knew what to say or do, but now she withdrew from him altogether. She knew he was still suffering from the funeral, same as she was, and that likely neither could make the other feel better about the current stances of their minds and souls.

Liloy seemed to skirt her father’s presence as well. Father and daughter were never together much anymore these days. If Liloy was in the house, Meta Knight was outside. They never held hands anymore or hugged. There seemed to be an invisible force pulling them apart, dragging them farther and farther away from each other, unraveling the already-fragile threads that once held their family bond close together. Cloudy found that painful truth incredibly sad.

Even her siblings seemed to notice the silent breach of bonding between the soldier and woman.

“Hey, what’s up with those two?” Sniper asked on the third day when Meta Knight sat on the porch and Liloy on the grass with the children. “Why are they behaving so awkwardly? They’re always apart now. Why is that? They’ve never done that before.”

“I wish I knew, but then again, it’s none of my business, is it?” Cloudy muttered. She trudged away to the opposite side of the house and sat down, her back to the rosebushes. Sniper stared after her, then shrugged and went back to his carefree playing.

 

* * * * *

 

Then the unexpected happened.

Four days before Cloudy’s birthday, Meta Knight asked Cloudy if she wanted to accompany him to Liloy’s house, which lay deep in Whispy Woods. Cloudy agreed, and off she walked with him into the forest. She didn’t know what they were doing but she knew from Meta Knight’s dark-green (meaning anxious) eyes that it was something important. She felt a little flutter of unease and discomfort, but she pressed on through the sharp, winding trails and dense undergrowth. The vines twitched in the occasional breezes that swept through the area, and the boughs of the oaks creaked and groaned.

At last, they came to a modest, well-kept red-brick cabin that stood along Miracilius Trail, which lay two miles parallel to Magnolia Brook. Cloudy smiled as she spotted the well-tended rosebushes in front of the railed porch. Roses were the favorite flower of both she and Liloy; magnolias were second. Cloudy’s mind then traveled back to last year’s Thanksgiving, when Scazzarda had showed a rose to the picnickers and explained that the thorns represented the crown of thorns, or the suffering Christ endured on the cross; the rose petals represented Jesus’ blood, or the washing away of our sins; and the green of the stem and leaves represented the renewal of our bodies and spirits in Heaven, or eternal life. Cloudy had never forgotten that beautiful demonstration of what the design of the rose meant to her and what she hoped would one day mean to all.

She was brought out of her reverie by the sound of scuffling and scraping inside the house. The front door opened and out came Liloy, dragging a large gray box onto the porch, a morose look on her pallid countenance. She raised her head and saw her father and his friend standing in the yard, and a peaked smile replaced her sorrowful look. “Hello!” she shouted.

For the first time in days, Cloudy grinned, her eyes brightening with the old spark of her fiery spirit. There was the cheerful, convivial Liloy they had always known and loved. “Hi!” she returned, darting up the porch stairs and almost tripping on the broken top step. Liloy looked alarmed, but Cloudy regained her balance and hopped over to the box, curiously peeking inside at a load of knickknacks and other odds and ends.

“Hello, Father,” Liloy said happily, smiling at him as he mounted the steps and walked up beside Cloudy.

“Greetings, my child,” he answered gravely. He glanced down at the box. “What are you doing, my dear?”

Liloy’s face suddenly became heartsick once more and she looked down for a moment, feeling uncertain about the recent thoughts she had been having. Her eyes rose to the huge oak tree overshadowing her porch, the tree that had protected her cabin from lightning strikes and fierce hurricanes and floods, from blowing snow and wind for so many years. This wasn’t just any cabin, she knew; it was her childhood home, the place where she had grown up after her mother had married Meta Knight. However, the marriage didn’t last. She remembered all too well the terrible day her mother had thrown her wedding rings at Meta Knight, screamed horrid words at him, and stormed out of the cabin. And she never came back.

Never. The word gyrated in her head. Never.

“Liloy?” Cloudy asked, concerned. “Are you okay? You look like you flew off to a different universe for a moment.”

“Oh. . .” Liloy smiled, trying to mask the tumultuous chaos of her mind. “Oh, no, Cloudy. I was just thinking, was all.” She looked back at the front door, her eyes darkening, and then at Meta Knight. “Father, would you mind coming inside a moment? We, er, need to talk. . .in private, preferably.”

One look at her face and Cloudy knew the news was going to be bad. Since she had already had enough bad news in the last couple of weeks, she decided she didn’t want to listen to what Liloy had to say anyway. “I’ll just wait out here,” the little girl offered. “You and your dad just go on in and talk about whatever needs talking about, okay?”

“Uh, yeah. Okay.” Liloy gestured for Meta Knight to walk inside and shut the door behind them. She led the way into the living room, which, to his bewilderment, was now completely barren of furniture. He watched as Liloy planted herself in the middle of the floor, crossed her arms, and shot him that resolved stare which determined she was about to announce something either truly exciting or completely sad.

In this case, it was neither.

“Father, I need to tell you something,”Liloy answered. “I’ve decided I’m going to sell this house and move.”

That hit Meta Knight hard, but he tried not to show it. “And go where?” he gently asked.

“To Mount Moonstem.” Liloy sighed a little. “I understand they have some cabins there you can buy or rent.”

“That’s why you are moving all the boxes out,” Meta Knight observed, his eyes growing wide in disbelief. “But Liloy, why would you just do this without consulting anyone first? Don’t you love it here anymore?”

Liloy sighed again. “It’s my life. I can do as I wish, Father. And I wish to move.” She pressed a hand to her forehead. “Actually, the truth is, Father, when Tilry died, I knew I could no longer be happy without him here. To me, it’s just empty, desolate, barren, as if he were never here at all. It feels too much like the days after Dad died of alcohol complications. After he passed, I wanted to run away. The only reason I stayed then was because you married Mom. When she disappeared, I stayed on because of Tilry. Now he’s gone too.” She was crying now. “I’ll never truly be happy here again, Father. The best thing I can do now is leave.”

Meta Knight sighed and closed his eyes. He knew all too well the feeling of having a father who never truly cared. . . “I will indeed miss you living so close to me, darling. But if this is what you choose, then so be it.” He opened his eyes and managed a slight smile. “At least you will have your baby to keep you company.”

Liloy’s face grew cold and her eyes became stony. Meta Knight had never seen that look on her face before. “Actually,” she began, and then halted, seemingly hesitant to reveal the words right on the tip of her tongue. Meta Knight felt a strange tenseness take ahold of him.

“Actually. . .what?” he prompted.

Liloy looked to the ceiling and back at her father, looking him straight in the eye. “I am going to tell you the complete and honest truth,” she said softly yet sternly. “I told my high school friend, Lilith, that I felt incapable of taking care of my child with Tilry gone and asked her help. She suggested I ‘, as she put it.”

Meta Knight gasped in horror. “Liloy! What are you talking about? Are you saying she suggested you to end your pregnancy?! How could she?! That-That is not an adequate solution! . . .I mean. . .I. . .” His voice faltered, and the words died away in his throat.

“I understand how you feel, Father, and I even argued with her on that issue. But she. . .she seems to. . .” She broke off as she recalled that day and their argument. . .

 

* * * * *

“Why can’t I just put him up for adoption. . .?”

“β€œMaybe you could. . .but what if no one adopts him? . . . . Or what if you do decide to raise him and he doesn’t have a mattress to sleep on. . .? . . . . What if he has to live on the street, barely eating, barely surviving. . .? . . . . And all because his mother chose the harder route of suffering instead of doing the kinder thing that would allow him to live in peace?”

 

* * * * *

 

Liloy shook her head as she finished relating Lilith’s words to her dismayed father. “Lilith was right, Father. I can’t do this. I can’t raise my child by myself. Nor can I put him up for adoption; the awful things she mentioned could happen. I don’t want my child to suffer in any way. Therefore, there’s only one choice I can possibly make.” She took a deep breath.

Meta Knight read her thoughts even before she spoke them. “No,” he whispered, shaking his head. “No. You cannot do such a thing!”

“It’s my life,” she coldly remarked.

“It’s not in your authority to take the life of your own child!” Meta Knight shouted at her, fury in his voice. “How could you even think of doing such a thing! This is not how I raised you!”

“I have no other choice! You know I don’t!” Liloy yelled back, her voice rising shrilly.

“You do have a choice!” Meta Knight returned. “You can choose to take the hard road and raise your child yourself! I have seen single parents guide their children themselves and I admire them highly for that! I did the same for you and Gregory when your mother left me, and I never gave up, even when I truly wanted to!”

“I’m not you!” Liloy cried out, the weight of her words slamming full force on him. “I’m not a soldier! I’m not someone who struggles for peace and answers to their questions! I wasn’t abused like you were!” She paused for breath, her heavy breaths filling the stillness of the room. “I’m not you,” she repeated in a whisper, her voice trembling.

“You cannot do this,” the soldier spoke once again, his voice angry. “You are making a big mistake!”

“Then it’ll be my mistake,” Liloy coldly responded. “But I am only doing the best for my baby.”

“No, you are not!” Meta Knight cried. “You will only hurt him of you follow through with such a thing! If you accomplish this awful deed, you will forever regret it!”

“Maybe, but at least I will have peace knowing I only tried to do what was best for him,” Liloy said calmly. She didn’t seem to care about her mortifying plan.

Meta Knight was aghast. Has she completely lost her mind?! he thought, alarmed. He was panicked. She can’t do this! Not at any cost! This is ridiculous!

“Liloy,” came a quiet, rigid voice from the direction of the doorway. With a gasp, both family members turned and saw Cloudy standing there, her normally dazzling eyes dark as night. Who knew who long she had been standing there, listening to their conversation?

“Oh, dear. . .” Meta Knight nervously swished his cape behind him.

Liloy crossed her arm and put her foot down hard. “What?” she shot back, her voice rough.

“Why would you want to get rid of your baby because you feel you cannot take are of him?” Cloudy asked. “God specifically tells us in the Bible that the murder of babies is wrong. And you yourself know you can raise your child yourself without Tilry’s help. After all, you have God. But Lilith’s evil words have blinded you to the duty God gave you as a mother―to raise, love, protect, and nurture your child.”

“I have made my choice,” Liloy said in a tone of finality. “Nobody can change my mind now.” With those forbidding words, she turned and walked toward the front door.

Cloudy was beginning to get desperate. There was nothing else she could now but try to snap Liloy back to reality. “You can’t!” she shrieked, and leaped forward to grab Liloy’s cape. Her teeth closed around the pink fabric and she jerked her head backward, trying to prevent Liloy from walking out the door.

“Let go of my cape!” Liloy ordered.

Cloudy’s response was to lean her head even farther back and tug harder. She refused to let Liloy take the life of anyone, especially an innocent baby who had done no harm and deserved a chance to live. “You can’t do this to your baby!” she wailed in dismay. “You cannot! I’m telling you, you cannot!”

“Let go of me this instant!” Liloy yelled sharply, raising her hand and knocking her fist over the child’s head. Cloudy, stunned, fell backward, the rose-colored cloth slipping from her mouth. Meta Knight was shocked, but Liloy merely stormed out of the room, preparing to leave. But just as she reached the front door, she heard Cloudy murmur:

“You promised. . .You promised Tilry you would take care. . .of your baby. . .”

Liloy forze at those words, and her mind flashed back to the hospital room.Β  She had been standing beside the bed, waiting for Tilry’s last words to her. A weary hand in hers; it felt ice-cold to the touch. A raspy voice speaking his final words to her:

“Take care. . .of our baby. Promise. . .you will.”

Liloy stood there in a state of semi-shock, dazed, as she suddenly recalled her very last words to Tilry:

“I promise.”

“‘I promise?'” she repeated softly over and over again. Then she violently shook her head, as one waking from a dream. “I. . .did promise. . .didn’t I? But I can’t. . .I can’t do this. There’s no way on earth I can raise my baby. It’s too much for me. It’s too. . .much. . .” With an outburst of anger, she kicked open the front door, sending a shower of dust and wood splinters flying onto the porch. “No!” she muttered to herself, “I can’t do it! I can’t take care of my baby! Not now, when I’m alone! I have no other choice btu to do what I am able!” She stomped off down the steps, slamming the door, leaving behind a bruised, sore puppy and a furious, but helpless, father who stood in the middle of the living room, wondering where he had gone wrong.