Ruth: Reimagined

Endure

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Endure
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Ruth shut the door behind her, retiring to bed earlier, like she had been doing  for the past few days. She wanted to get away from her mother, who smothered her with all her worry, whose  eyes carried a sadness where the anger once was.

Away from her father, who was way too calm, way to at ease, for all that was happening. Instead, he stared at her with a gaze that carried a knowledge of something she felt she would rather not know.

Her chambers were bathed in a darkness, which brought no fear into her heart because of how well she knew the the place and how safe she felt. It was within these chambers she had broken down, over a million things. It was within these chambers that she learned to dance and taught her body how to move to a rhytm that aligned with her heart. Within these chambers, she lived.

Ruth walked further in her room, sat by her bed, clasping her hands together, waiting. In the silence, her thoughts consumed her. She stood up abruptly. 

Turning around, she got on her knees,  clasped her hands together again, in prayer, her eyes fluttering shut. With everything in her, she tried to be in the moment.

“This still doesn't feel right.” she muttered. Opening her eyes, Ruth moved from the kneeling position and lay flat on the ground, staring at the ceiling.

“Not this either,” she said, turning and laying flat on her stomach, her mouth kissing the floor.  A prostate position of worship.

She laid there for a good moment, but it still wasn't right, like it was for the past few days. She got up, a frustrated sigh escaping her lips, and she got on her knees by the bed.

Closing her eyes, she breathed.

“Dear…God.”  She spoke, her voice uncertain, wavering. “Are you there?”

Waiting in the silence, her heart searched for an answer, for that warmth that poured into her heart in her dream, leaving it whole, for the peace that overwhelmed her, searching, for the light in the darkness.

Nothing.

Her heart felt emptier. She felt it throughout the day, and it came strongly when she laughed with the King in the afternoon. It grew cold. She felt it when she spoke with her mother, all affection gone, as well as with her father, she barely spoke to him.

Her mind was on constant overdrive, stressing over her future, that looked, bleak, but then there was the King, who offered love and riches but surrendering  to that love brought guilt.

“Anyone? Who are you?” She questioned,  wondering which god she had encountered in that dream.

Nothing.

Not even the wind whistled through the open windows. No light shone into her room, she awaited but—

“Nothing’s happening.” Her voice broke, her eyes burned  with tears.

It was as if she imagined it, although it felt so real. She couldn't talk to anyone about it, she had no friends, her parents were a whole other story, and King Eglon would probably burn her for even mentioning another God besides the one the Moabites worshipped.

“ Anyone?” She cried out, and the silence was deeper.

She broke it with her soft, contained sobs. Tears trickled down her cheeks, she wiped at them over and over, but more came.

“I think it's rather unfair,” she spoke, to the God that had made himself known then, left. “ —that you come, and turn my world upside down, then remain silent. Just please, do something.”