The shock of the horror that she was sure awaited her numbed her senses and she seemingly painlessly surrendered to the power that effortlessly dragged her deeper and deeper into the darkness. The last thing she remembered was the song her mother used to sing to her whenever she had a bad dream as a little girl, and the voice did what it always did, and soon she lost all consciousness. She woke up to nothing. There was no one, no sound, no light, nothing. It was the kind of darkness that the eyes could never get accustomed to, yet she felt no fear anymore. She was prepared for whatever fate awaited her.
Pachi was nowhere to be seen, there was no visibility anyway. Suddenly, the now familiar heavy footsteps could be heard approaching her. Pachi was a presence that could be felt without light; she was darkness within darkness, and such a thick darkness was she that the darkness around her seemed to be light. She began to make a loud and horrible noise, and took the stance of an animal about to pounce on its prey. Amba did what she never imagined she could do in such a situation. She prayed. A simple prayer learnt in Sunday school, one she would have been surprised to remember under more pleasant circumstances. ‘Jesus, I trust you for my life, it is yours, amen’. Pachi kept roaring, but the roar changed to a high pitched shriek as she started reaching for her head.
Amba closed her ears to shield her from the ear-splitting noise coming from the darkness. All of a sudden, there was a burst of light and Pachi’s awesome hideousness could be visible. Words could not describe the look of shock on Amba’s face as Pachi transformed under the blinding light into…..a mirror image of Amba herself. Pachi was Amba, or so it seemed. Amba saw in Pachi her own fears, hurts, bitterness, resentment and shame. It was then that she realized what had been staring her in the face all along, she was Pachi, and Pachi was her. Pachi was her own creation and that’s why she seemed so dark and undefeatable. The short prayer she made allowed her to see Pachi for who she really was, Amba without Jesus.
What darkness is holding you captive?
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