Sanctuary

Introduction

With my eyes closed, I enjoy the breeze caressing my face.

  I am tired… tired of the memories of that piece of s**t that I don’t call a father anymore abusing me… tired of my drunkard mother hating me for ‘stealing’ her man… tired of my shitty job with a handsy boss… tired of the whispers and the looks of the people around me…

I am so done with this life.

I open my eyes and gaze at the lights of the city at night, then take a step forward.  The wind caresses my face as I fall and I smile at the asphalt rushing to meet me like a long-lost lover.

Then I die…

…or so I would like to say, but instead I find myself dropping gently on a completely white… well…  emptiness.  I rise to stand on my feet and look around.  White everywhere…

“Welcome, child.  Do not be afraid.”

The voice is all around me, gentle and playful in tone.

“Who are you?  Where am I?”, I ask, more curious than scared.

The very air shimmers before me, and a young girl of maybe 16 years emerges, a gentle smile on her face, thin white flowing garments adorning her body.  She wears no jewels, but no jewel is needed.  She is a jewel by herself, with a youthful face and a lithe body.

“My name is Tara, child, and I mean you no harm.  You have suffered a lot in your short life and I took it upon myself to balance your bad karma.”

Her eyes are like green pits of compassion as she looks at me.

“I will give you a second chance to a happy life, child, and I sincerely hope that you will make the best of it.”

At her words, I lose the grip on my already frayed by today’s events temper.

“I need your pity as much as the world needs me, which means not at all!  I just want to die!”

“Ah, but the world does need you, child.”

“And stop calling me a child!  It pisses me off”.

“As you wish, Demetra, or would you prefer to be called Demi?”

“Only my sick f**k father calls me Demetra.”

“Very well, Demi.  As I was saying, the world does need you.  Well, not this world, exactly… how should I put it… hmm…”

Tara takes a pensive pose with a finger holding her chin, like a little girl thinking.

“You can consider it an alternate reality, or perhaps a fantasy world like those you used to read in stories.  Only it is real, not a fairy tale.”

I laugh harshly at her words.

“So let me guess, I will reincarnate as the princess?”

“Not… quite.  I doubt you would thank me if I were to send you in a gilded cage, in a life where you would have no choice but to marry whoever your father indicated.”

Snort!

“Why, thank you!  Quite perceptive of you.  Did you miss the part where I want to die?”

Tara sighs in exasperation.  Her expression reminds me of a mother enduring the foibles of her child; not that I have any experience with that.  I was never a mother and as sure as hell my mom never bothered with me.  Still, her expression is endearing and I find my anger slowly subsiding subconsciously.

“Would at least be so kind as to listen to me first?  I promise that I will not send you anywhere without your consent.”

Calm now, I nod in agreement.

“Thank you.  As I was saying, there is a world in an alternate reality that resembles your world’s fantasy stories.  Magic exists, as well as magical creatures.  Unfortunately, greed and lust for power exists as well; kings and warlords and robber barons, they vie and fight each other for supremacy, while vast swathes of land remain unclaimed.  You can consider it something akin to the dark ages of your world with a sprinkle of fairy dust…”

I look at her in shock,

“Your sale pitch sucks!  You want to send me there?”

“Aren’t you at least curious as to why I wish to send you there?”

“Not really.” Sigh, I did agree to hear her out… “Okay, I will listen.”

Tara smiles at me, sadly.

“In that world, women are treated as property.  They have no rights; they can’t own anything.  They must obey their fathers until they marry, then their husbands until the day they die.  I want to change that, and for that I need you!”

I look at her perplexed,

“Me?  What could I do?  I couldn’t even live my own life as I wished.  I sympathize with them, but I can’t help them.  I am not a man, nor a warrior; I am just a broken woman. What help could I possibly provide?  I would most likely live and die miserably.”

There is a glint now in Tara’s eyes,

“Tell me this then: in your life, did you ever put your trust in a man when he said that he would help you?”

“No!”

The answer is spat out of my lips instinctively.  Tara continues, her gaze hardening,

“Indeed so.  How can you trust a man when all your misery started with one?  You have known abuse, suffering, hatred, misery!  You have lived in a world where nobody ever cared about you,  where nobody ever cared whether you lived or died, where those that should have protected you abused you, where the men cared only for your body and the women believed you a slut, never bothering to doubt whether you deserved the label or not.  Tell me then!  If not you, who can better understand these poor souls?  If not you, who else can know their woes and relate to their troubles?”

I stand frozen on the spot, taken aback by the vehemence of her words.  Tears I didn’t know I had spill from my eyes and blur my vision.

“Do you know what you are asking of me?  I died to get away from all that!”

Tara’s gaze turns gentle as she replies softly,

“Indeed, I know.  It is no easy task that I ask of you, but the burden will not be yours alone.”

The air shimmers once again and in place of the young girl now stands regally a woman swathed in golden robes and with a gold crown on her head.  She looks at me for a second that seems like an eternity, then places her hands one atop the other on her belly and bows to me.

“I am Tara, Mother of Mercy and Compassion, and I beg of you, help them…”

A million thoughts race through my head, all the reasons for which I should refuse, but in the end, only a thought remains…

“Okay, I will try…”

For the first time in my life, I am needed…