Miracle

Pt. 1

"Gotta hurry... Gotta hurry! I'm going to be so late," Lily chastised herself, the frantic mantra echoing in her head. Her worn sneakers pounded a rapid rhythm on the cracked pavement, a desperate attempt to outpace the ticking clock. The crisp morning air, usually invigorating, felt sharp with her rising anxiety. She could already picture Ms. Kim's thin, disapproving lips pursed tighter than a miser's coin purse, her sharp eyes ready to skewer Lily for even a sixty-second delay. It wasn't like working at the "Daily Grind" cafe, with its perpetually sticky counters and the clatter of ceramic mugs, was her lifelong ambition. Her true passion burned brighter, a distant star beckoning: a new planetarium was slated to open in a few weeks. The thought of guiding eager minds through the cosmic dance of galaxies, of sharing the breathtaking scale of the universe, made pouring another lukewarm mocha latte with extra cream feel like a Sisyphean task.

Lost in this daydream of cosmic wonders versus caffeine drudgery, she approached a bustling crosswalk. She automatically glanced left, then right, the kaleidoscope of yellow cabs and blaring horns a familiar city symphony. She stepped onto the asphalt, hastening her stride. Then, a sound tore through the urban din – a jarring, agonizing creak that seemed to rip the very air above her. Every instinct screamed. Lily froze mid-step, her head snapping upward. What she saw stole the breath from her lungs: a bright yellow traffic light, its metal arm twisted and severed, plummeted from the sky like a rogue meteor. It descended with terrifying, impossible speed, a blur of impending doom. There was no time to react, no time to even form a thought.

The heavy, unforgiving metal struck her directly on the crown of her head with a sickening, hollow thud. The world dissolved into a blinding flash of white, then darkness. Her legs buckled, and she crumpled to the hard ground, unconscious before her body even finished its fall. Around her, the city's symphony shattered into a chaotic chorus of gasps and terrified shouts.

Bystanders, their faces a canvas of shock and alarm, rushed forward, a blur of movement. Hands fumbled for phones, voices yelled for help, a desperate scramble to aid the fallen girl.
Two weeks later, Lily lay motionless in a sterile hospital bed, a fragile figure amidst a tangle of IV lines and the rhythmic beep-beep-beep of a heart monitor. Her mother, Sarah, sat beside her, a weary sentinel. Her face was etched with a profound exhaustion that settled deep into the lines around her eyes, a testament to sleepless nights and gnawing worry. Her hand, worn from years of work, gently clasped Lily’s still, cool fingers.

"Why do you always have to make me worry with these impossible situations, Lily?" Sarah murmured, her voice raw with a mix of frustration and profound love. It wasn't just this time. Ever since Lily was born, an absurd, almost supernatural string of bad luck had clung to her like a shadow. Sarah remembered the time a flock of pigeons had inexplicably dive-bombed Lily's birthday ice cream cone, turning it into a feathery, melted mess. Or the infuriating instances of her bike tires inexplicably popping when she was hurtling downhill, sending her sprawling. And who could forget the bizarre incident with the runaway grocery cart that had chased Lily halfway down a busy street? A constant, exhausting stream of minor and major misfortunes that had always seemed to gravitate towards her daughter.

Sarah had been a single parent since before Lily’s birth, a tough decision made out of necessity, and the constant medical bills, always tied to Lily's latest escapade, were a testament to her daughter's truly unusual streak of bad luck "I mean, who just has a traffic light fall on them?!" Sarah questioned aloud, the sheer absurdity of it still a fresh wound in her mind. "Is that a normal thing that happens to people?!" She rubbed her hands down her face, then looked up at the harsh fluorescent lights of the ceiling, closing her eyes in a silent plea. It wouldn't hurt to say a little prayer, she thought, a familiar, desperate ritual she'd performed countless times before, though nothing ever seemed to change. "I just wish you didn't have to go through these types of things, Lily. I wish you didn't have to worry about your life being in danger all the time. That would be a miracle in itself." She quickly swiped away the fresh tears that tracked silent paths down her cheeks, forcing a fragile shield of hope around her aching heart.

Standing up, the stiffness in her joints a stark reminder of the hours spent waiting, Sarah realized she needed to get ready for work. "Get well soon, Lily. I'll stop by again after work." She leaned over, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to Lily’s forehead, then walked out, the door closing with a soft, decisive click behind her.

Minutes after she left, a brilliant, pulsating orb of pure light materialized in the very center of the quiet room. It shimmered with an otherworldly luminescence, gradually coalescing, swirling, and taking the form of a man. His skin was like the finest, untouched porcelain, his blonde hair styled in perfect, ethereal waves that seemed to catch the light. His eyes, a piercing, impossible blue, held depths that hinted at ancient knowledge. He wore an immaculate, all-white suit that didn't just reflect light, but seemed to softly glow from within.

He moved with an ethereal grace, silent as a whisper, to Lily's bedside, his movements fluid and unhurried. Gently, with a touch lighter than a feather, he brushed a dark strand of bangs from her closed eyes "Lily Freeman," he murmured, his voice a soft, melodic hum that seemed to resonate deep within the room. A serene smile, gentle and knowing, graced his perfect lips. "You'll never have to worry about danger again. I'll be your miracle." He hovered his hand just above her head for a few seconds, a faint, almost imperceptible warmth emanating from his palm, a sensation that seemed to infuse the very air around her. "That should do it," he said to himself, a private satisfaction in his tone, before backing away slowly, his form shimmering. As quickly as he had appeared, he dissolved into thin air, leaving behind only the faintest trace of ozone and a lingering sense of profound peace.

All of a sudden, Lily’s brown eyes snapped open, wide and unfocused. She shot upright in the bed, a desperate gasp for air tearing from her throat, her chest heaving as if she'd just surfaced from a deep ocean. The machines she was hooked to erupted in a loud, frantic chorus of piercing beeps and alarms, ringing in her ears like a frantic warning bell. Footsteps pounded in the hallway. Doctors, their faces a mix of surprise and urgency, burst into the room, immediately swarming her bed, checking vitals, calling out instructions. All while Lily sat perfectly still, her head cocked slightly, dazed and utterly, profoundly confused by the sudden, overwhelming reality of her awakening.