pure, brown skin bride | Suds 3

pure, Suds 3 | Episode 14

{Last time on Suds, Lique found Terrance sleeping in her bed. Well, other stuff happened first, but pinkies up and straight to the tea. 🫖🍵🧋☕️

Lique shared her innermost thoughts with Terrance while he appeared to be sleeping. But he stopped pretending when he heard her soul crushing confession. Where could our favorite quasi couple possibly go in this tragic love affair???

Sniffles and tears 🥲
Ready, Set, Say it with me... Suds!!}

~

Her body tingled when she woke up the next morning. LIQUE smiled and squeezed her eyes shut, giddy from the potent memories of him.

She hugged her pillow, wishing it was him and dozed off again.

A thick, gooey liquid smeared across her jaw. She wiped her cheek, caking her fingers in the inky substance and gasped at the tar gluing her fingers together.

Distraught, she threw the pillow aside. It dropped like a rock, smashing into twigs before rolling into nearby shrubs.

Lique swiped her hand on the bed just as it transformed into a jagged rock. Her palm slit and blood gushed from the deep wound.

She shook her head in disbelief as the shabby chic bedroom morphed into a wooded area, dotted with massive trees and the deafening serial shrieks of cicadas.

Her voice trembled. "It's not real."

The night air thickened in her throat, blocking her airway, and she scrambled toward the nearest tree. Her feet wobbled as she spun around, keeping her back pressed against a massive oak.

"It's not real," she repeated.

Darkness cloaked her sight as she stared into the pitch black night. Wheezing out strained breaths, her frantic eyes darted from tree to tree, chasing the sound of snapping twigs and rustling leaves.

"It's not real," she said again.

Then a faceless shadow form appeared. Her blood iced and she sucked in a yelp, breathing out the word in shaky breaths.

"The blood of Jesus," she whimpered, remembering her sister's wild claims about power in the word of God.

Her body trembled and she slammed her eyes shut.

"The blood of Jesus," she repeated, fumbling through her mind to remember the entire scripture.

She blanched and her throat tightened, cutting off air. Lique shrank in defeat, covering her face to hide from the approaching mass.

Then a sudden rush of words surfaced in her heart and tumbled off her tongue.

"My refuge and my fortress.
My God in whom I trust."

The shadow disappeared and the forest faded as the word she breathed manifested into a swirling ribbon of truth, bringing the scripture to life.

Pure wonder flushed her spirit and she forgot about the monster in the forest. Her starved lungs filled with a crisp wind. And her heart thumped, beating new life into her chest.

The word swirled around, sprouting her into the sky as it formed a mighty golden fortress high above the world.

"My refuge," she whispered, touching the solid stone wall, the color of sand. Awe filled, she stared and the massive winding wall, reminiscent of a road wide enough to fit a four lane highway. "It's a fortress." She gasped, taken aback by its magnitude.

The scripture she read over and over on her grandmother's bed was alive.

Glistening inside the wall, like threads woven together to create brilliant tapestries, were the words she was barely able to breathe.