by Tanya South
The fragrances all around me were overwhelming. Pink skies, purple clouds, and dazzling butterflies decorated the atmosphere. My feet walked on plush grass, which felt more like I had been walking on goose-feathered pillows. Perfectly trimmed bushes, each one a different color, were landscaped across a curvy pathway. The air was crisp and fresh. There were tall, warm sunflowers ahead of me again. They were eye-popping. The field was endless. Sunflowers were everywhere. I ran right through them with my arms spread out. The sensation was like pure silk on my fingers. Surely, I had to be in heaven. Laughter filled my belly. Happiness found me again. From a far distance, I could see the most remarkable tree. A tree that I don’t think even ever existed on the earth or the creation of it. I kept running toward it. It was magnetic and its presence kept pulling me closer toward it. My eyes were completely fixed on this tree. The closer I got, the bigger and taller it appeared. Something familiar was before me. It had been that bed of roses where each rose had been a different color, like a rainbow. Then I noticed the tree again. It had been like a morphed, supernatural tree. It resembled a beautiful southern magnolia tree, about eighty feet tall. The magnolias were the color of flawless ivory. The trunk of this tree reminded me of a palm tree. But in this wondrous tree were all kinds of fruit. In it were cherry-red apples, and lime-green apples, too. The yellowest of lemons and fuzzy, giant peaches were there, as well. Dark, sizeable cherries and figs dangled like jewels off its branches. Amazing! Plums, pears, and bright, plump oranges resided with each other on this divine tree, too. The leaves, emerald in color, were each shaped differently. Its leaves had to be about ten to twelve inches long. They waved at the fresh air. A tree like this doesn’t exist. For on earth, each of these fruits grew separately on its own kind of tree, but not this one. Light radiated all around it. My eyes were mesmerized.
What kind of tree is this? I asked myself.
“Natasha,” His voice spoke.
I knew it was Him. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up from amazement.
“Natasha.”
“I hear you, but I can’t see you,” I called out as I looked all around me.
“Natasha, do you want to know what kind of tree this is?”
“Yes, I do want to know what kind of tree it is. It’s beautiful. I’ve never seen such a tree, not even in fairy-tale storybooks.”
“Natasha, this is the ‘Natasha Tree,’” His voice said.
“Huh? I don’t understand.”
“This is a tree of life. This tree is you.”
Tears welled up in my bright green eyes. I couldn’t stop crying.
“Natasha, why do you cry?”
“God, I know you know the answer to that question. But I know you’re probably asking because you want to hear me say it. So I will… I’m crying because you say I’m that tree. But that tree is not only unique, but it’s out of this world. It’s colorful, beautiful, and full of life. That is definitely not me. I hate my life. I’m no good. My presence is dark and gloomy. I’ve lost all hope,” I replied through my tears.
I fell to my knees, my head bent down in shame. How could it be that I’m weeping in the middle of this perfect, safe place?
I couldn’t see Him, but it was as if someone had embraced me, hugging me tightly.
“Natasha, this tree is you.”
“I’m sorry to challenge you, God. But this tree is so not me.”
His voice said again, “Let me show you what this tree has been through.”
It had been like a series of quick, clear images flashing before me. Starting with a tiny seed in pitch blackness as it had been planted deep down in the soil. The darkness lasted what seemed like an eternity. Time crept slowly as the buds finally began to sprout. The tree began growing quickly. In the process of its growth, images of torrential downpours came upon it. A series of hurricanes, floods, and tornados pummeled this tree, but there it stood with its roots planted firmly into the ground. Winds whipped the tree. Its bark was peeling and falling off. The bark had taken a pretty good beating. Its trunk bent all the way to the right, then to the left. It arched forward and backward. The elasticity of this tree was inexplicable. This tree would just not break. Even lightning struck the tree. Branches violently broke off it. But there it still stood, regal and tall. As the black, thick clouds passed and the skies finally opened up, the sun showed its face again. The sun ruled the blue skies once more and there were no more clouds. After weathering the storm, this phenomenal tree defied all of the laws of nature. Its branches began to grow again. The tree produced every kind of fruit on its branches. God’s handiwork was perfect. Suddenly, the images stopped.
“Do you see now, Natasha?” His voice asked.
Hope sprung into my soul. Its light around it beamed like no other light I’ve ever seen. I realized the light was Jesus. The tree and I were connected somehow. Did I really believe I could be like this tree? Had I just been dealt an unfair card in life? Or could it be that I am just like this tree? Hope had given birth in my heart. Could it be, I had a chance for a better life?
“I think so,” I answered with a little doubt.
“Natasha. Speak your truth. It will set you free. Remember, this tree is you.”
“Speak my truth? What do you mean, God? You know my truth.”
“Natasha. Always remember that you are a tree full of life.”
“Natasha. Natasha. Can you hear me?” It was Mom’s voice.
Then she wept and wept on. I could hear doctors talking with her. They informed her that I fell into a coma. The horrific truth had been revealed to her about my attack in that grim motel. Apparently, there had been a string of girls who had gone missing. And no one really knew at the time too much about it, but it was believed that girls were being taken and sold into prostitution. Whoever heard of this? Somehow, by the grace of God, I had possibly escaped that demise.
“Natasha. It’s time,” He spoke.
My eyes opened. There stood my beautiful Mom and Dad right next to me.
What was once a dreadful place for me, being in the hospital with my parents at that very moment became my place of refuge. Thank you, God!
CHAPTER TWELVE
SECRETS
LUKE 12:2–3
There is nothing concealed that will not be disclosed, or hidden that will not be made known. What you have said in the dark will be heard in the daylight, and what you have whispered in the ear in the inner rooms will be proclaimed from the roofs.
The mirror reflected my bruised and swollen jaw. My eye was purple and completely shut. I felt my wounded cheek and it was painful to the touch. Weird, but I was relieved to see my flawed reflection. It had been proof that I was still alive and breathing. Beyond my fractured image, I could see that healthy, whole, and happy little girl somewhere deep down inside of me. There is more than this, I thought. But what? How do I pick up the broken pieces of my life? The pieces were tiny bits that couldn’t be glued back together again. But I remembered the tree that had been to hell and back. The little spark of hope had lit in me. I wanted that spark to turn into a fire. A fire that burned so deep inside of my soul. To create a passion in me, not only to live, but to let others know that if I could survive the torrential storm, so could they. I wanted to bear fruit just like that tree.
There was a knock on the bathroom door in my hospital room.
“Tasha, Baby. Are you okay in there?”
“I’m okay, Mom. I’ll be right out.”
I couldn’t understand why I went through what I did. And I didn’t know what was to come. All I could say in a low whisper under my breath was, “Thank you Jesus.” I started to sound like Mom. She was always thanking Jesus under her breath.
Mom was standing right by the door waiting. Without a word said, she embraced me as I held onto the walker. I’d suffered a concussion, a broken rib, my left calf had been fractured; twelve sutures on my upper eye lid and my body felt like it had been run over by a truck.
“Sweetheart, I’m sorry to have to
tell you this. I know you’ve been through so much already. But the police are stopping by soon.”
“Police? How come?”
“Well, the detective on your case has a bunch of pictures he wants to show you. They want to know if you recognize anyone from the photos. They want to find who’s responsible for doing this to you. And so do Dad and me.”
“Aww, Mom. I’m kinda scared.”
“I know, Sweetheart. If you’re not ready, I can just have them come by another day. It’s just the sooner you can help identify who did this, the sooner they can find them.”
“Okay, I’ll do it. I’ll be fine.”
“You’re so brave. They are bringing a sketch artist, too.”
“Where’s Dad?” I asked.
“He’ll be here soon. This whole situation has been really tough for him.”
Mom’s eyes were so puffy. I could tell she had cried her eyes out. But I knew she was trying to be strong in front of me.
I couldn’t stop thinking if they only knew I’d been dealing with monsters since I was little. I knew I had to keep that a secret from them. I didn’t want them to be hurt any more than they’d been hurt already. Besides, Joe had been out of the picture. My family and I hadn’t seen or heard from him in years. My slumber had lasted several hours after. My body felt jet-lagged. During that time, detectives had stopped by, but I had been knocked out. Time was of the essence, but they assured they’d be back the following day.
During that time in the late eighties, it was the age of pay telephones. Technology had not been as sophisticated as it is today. There were no surveillance cameras at every corner of the streets or businesses. Cell phones weren’t really popular yet, either. And social media didn’t even exist yet. So the police had their work cut out for them on finding the perpetrators.
The following day was mayhem. I sat in the recreational room with detectives, looking at a ton of photos, but I didn’t see Kage or Lucinda in any of them. I also spent quite some time with the sketch artist, giving him details of Kage and Lucinda. The sketches eerily resembled them.
After a few days had passed, Mom told me I was being transferred to a Christian rehabilitation center. There I would get physical therapy and counseling, too.
A week had gone by. I began feeling like I belonged there. Each of the rooms had a Bible in it. I started reading it every day, beginning with the book of Genesis. And the food they provided there had been pretty good. One day in the cafeteria, a girl sat down next to me. It looked like she might be pregnant. But I wasn’t sure.
“Hey.” She looked over at me with a smile.
“Hi,” I said.
“I’m Mia. What’s your name?”
“I’m Natasha. But some people call me Tasha.”
“What happened to you?” she asked me.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, aren’t we all here for something? I’ll start with me if you want.”
“Sure.”
“First of all, I’m twenty years old. And as you can see, I’m pregnant. I’m only four months, though. The doctors say I’m just retaining a lot of water.”
“Congratulations. Are you married?” I asked her.
As she looked down, she said, “No, I’m not. My baby’s father has disappeared on me.”
“Disappeared?” I asked, confused.“Well, yeah. We were so happy. I mean he was so happy, too, that we were having a baby together.”
“So what happened?”
“He had a problem with substance abuse. I tried to help him, but over time he just got worse,” Mia answered, her eyes tearing up.
“So he just left you?”
“No. I mean, yes. But not the way everyone thinks. You see, we were living together. One night, he decided he was going out. I knew better. I knew he was going out to find his next fix. I told him not to go. But he had become so irrational. And then he never returned back home.”
“Do you think maybe he changed his mind about being a daddy? Maybe it was too much pressure for him.”
“No. That’s not it. I know something is wrong. I called the police that night, but they said there was nothing they could do. They said he’s a grown man and probably just left me. Deep down inside I knew it wasn’t true. He loved me. And he loved our baby, too. He wouldn’t just leave us.”
“What about his family? Have you tried reaching out to them?”
“I never met his family. He was very secretive about his past. But told me he didn’t have a family, anyway. He said his parents died in a car accident when he was little.”
“Oh, my goodness. That’s horrible.”
“Yeah, I know. I always thought that was one of the reasons he was crazy at times. We were only together for two years before I got pregnant, but I feel like we’ve been together forever.”
“Wow. I’m so sorry. So what are you doing here?” I asked, still confused, thinking what did all of that had to do with her being in a place like this.
“That’s just it. I’m kind of ashamed about it. But I tried to take my life. I know it’s terrible. I love my baby. And I love Junior. That’s his name by the way. They are all I have. I have no one else. I have no other family. How could I raise my baby on my own? I figured I could just end my pain once and for all.”
Even though I didn’t know Mia and had just met her, I felt compelled to hug her at that moment. I embraced her. She embraced me back as she cried.
“I’m so sorry,” I told her. “I know we just met. This may sound weird, but you have me.”
“Thank you.” She looked at me with grateful eyes.
Thereafter, as the days went by, I began reading stories out of the Bible to Mia. She didn’t believe in God, but she allowed me to read to her. She figured it’d be good for her baby. It had been healing for me, too.
“Mia, I hope you don’t mind, but I want to ask you a sensitive question.”
“Okay,” she said.
“Have you always not believed in God?”
“I’ve always wanted to. But if there is really a God, why did he allow me to be born to parents who didn’t want me? My mother supposedly was a crackhead who gave me up. My dad, well, let’s just say I don’t even know anything about him. I lived in foster home after foster home. No one loved me enough to want to adopt me. The idea that a God existed had once been in my mind as a kid. But as the years passed, I thought, if there was really a God, He wouldn’t allow babies be born into such detrimental circumstances.”
“Mia, I agree with you that life just isn’t fair. I questioned a lot of things growing up, too. But God is real.”
“Ha! That’s funny coming from you,” she said sarcastically.
“Why is that so funny?”
“Of course, you would believe in God. Why wouldn’t you? You grew up in a loving family with both of your parents who raised you and love you. You poor little rich girl. Poor little Tasha.”
“Mia, you don’t really know that much about me. Do I have loving parents? Yes, I do. Did they provide a great home for me? Yes, to the best of their ability. Was my childhood one that everyone wished they had? Absolutely not! You don’t know anything about me, Mia,” I said angrily.
Mia judged me. She didn’t know about my secret. She only knew about my horrific encounter with Kage and Lucinda. But she didn’t know about the monsters of my past. She didn’t know about the dead garden I had been living in for most of my life.
“I’m sorry, Tasha. What I meant is, yes, I’m sure you’ve had your problems. Doesn’t everyone? But your little problems are nothing compared to mine. I’m just saying. I guess if there is a God, He probably has His favorites. I’m certainly not one of His. You know what I mean?”
“No, Mia, I don’t know what you mean. But I’ll tell you this. I have a big secret. It’s secret that only me, one other person, and God know about. And it’s a very ugly, painful secret.”
“Oh? Do you want to talk about it?”
“No, I can’t and I won’t. Listen, I can’
t force you to want to sit with me and read the Bible. And I’m not going to try and convince you that God is real. All I want you to know is that I’m here for you if you need me.”
“Thank you, Tasha. I’m sorry. I hope I didn’t upset you and I appreciate all of your help. I’d like to continue hearing stories out of the book. What else can I do while I’m in here anyway? And I guess it can’t hurt, right?” She chuckled.
Mia’s unbelief suddenly became a challenge for me. In some weird way, I felt like I was getting closer to Him. Then I remembered when He spoke to me in the garden, and told me to speak my truth.
I wondered if he meant to speak my truth to Mia—or to anyone else, for that matter. But I just couldn’t. Shame weighed heavily on me. The monster in the garden needed to be kept secret always.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAINED
EPHESIANS 6:12
For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms.
The high winds screamed and howled as the thunder rattled the windowpanes. The barbed lightning continued to shoot out of the sky. It was seven o’clock in the morning, but it looked more like early evening. The sky had been somber. It reflected the way I felt at the moment. Why was I so ungrateful? My heart was still beating and I had breath in my lungs, but sadness continued to creep in. I learned little by little to pray each time that happened to me. The monsters of my past still taunted me. The detective was stopping by that day to meet with my parents and me. I started to regain more strength in my legs. Physical therapy was helping me a lot. The counseling didn’t help so much. But when I read the Bible, it did help me. I’d also somewhat become Mia’s spiritual counselor, too. Go figure. A damaged girl with a crushed self-esteem was counseling another broken girl. Somehow, it kept me going, even though I battled with keeping the dark secret from my past locked up. I dreamed about it in my sleep. I’d wake up in the mornings thinking about it, and I’d go to bed with the unspeakable memories trapped in my mind. I had become two different girls. One girl who was struggling to believe her true identity of who she really was in Christ, and the other girl who believed she was worth nothing. I had become a prisoner of my past. My mind and spirit had been bound in the chains of fear and shame. I was too young to understand at the time that the devil had a stronghold on me. I hadn’t yet grasped the realization that what the devil was really after was my faith. He took pleasure in the state of mind I lived in. But I kept replaying in my head the words that were spoken to me in the garden. God’s words: “Natasha, speak your truth.” I tried reconciling with those words. I wanted to break free. I wanted to break out of that cocoon of secrets. I wanted the secret to be set free like a beautiful butterfly.
