A baby is born. Hope handed over, wrapped in blankets and swaddled in light. The baby grows in warmth and love.
The years go by in flashes of increasing darkness. Seventeen years later, the same child crushes her knees to her chest, warding off the panic in her blood and the depression in her head.
Abused. Assaulted. Life crashed down. Disease. Death. Too much.
The parents stare in shock. Where is the hope? The light? The joy? Their arms crave to hold the bundle of hope swaddled in light. Their eyes yearn to hear the warmth of laughter bubbling from lips too silent.
Shadow shrouds the child, with her knees crushed to her chest. Battle scars much too deep and past much too dark.
Had the idea for this a few months ago, but only finally wrote it a couple weeks ago.