She smiled

Prologue

   Comatose in hopeless rage, her body moved like a defended ghost. Her feeble hands turned the doorknob in grave pain. Chloe, now in her forties, sat on an old grey reclining chair in her garden, recalling the phases of her life. The clear Scottish cyan evening sky above her went unappreciated — Notable depicted by the despair in her eyes. Her feet twitched in the cool breeze left behind as summer tended the grass with its mild heat. The direct sunset that settled over her eyes added to the discomfort she was feeling. She was still a beautiful woman to admire.

Even though her usual vibrant skin was now dry and pale from a lack of sleep, she was desperate for rest. The trials of the past few months sped up, taking their toll on her.

To Chloe, it felt like she was in a horrible winter season, feeling icy cold inside. Events she never dreamt she would experience had piled up on to her one after the other during the last few months. She was considering her relationship with the Saviour and her great personality.

"Is this what hell feels like?" Chloe wondered.

Her recriminations imaginations chased each other around and around in her head.

"Why do I keep getting everything wrong? I believed I had it all figured out, my faith, my job, my family, and all my friends. I am a priceless Renaissance painting broken into pieces. Can I be put together again? I can't remember when last I heard the Saviour speak to me. I am in a dry and parched land."

A call on her mobile interrupted her brain waves. Chloe looked at the caller ID.

"Pastor Mark again? I can't deal with this anymore. I am losing it. I've gone from the feeling of desolation to the brink of suicide. If I don't show up in church again, the Pastor would come and visit me. I would have to go. I need to speak to someone. This feeling is killing me."

She refused to take the call.

The next Sunday morning, she attended the fellowship. Even though she was operating on autopilot, she made efforts. Very little of the service registered, but it still left her feeling a little calmer.

Surprised and embarrassed, she stepped into Pastor's massive hug as she turned to leave. The embrace gave her a tiny glimpse of hope. That was all it took; Chloe could not control her tears any longer.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Pastor Mark asked. "You could speak to my wife if that would make you feel more comfortable," handing her a handkerchief.

"I... I think I want to speak to someone neutral. I am caught in a web and want to get out before it's too late," Chloe murmured, still shivering.

"I would introduce you to Ms Black. She is a great counsellor, and we would pray for you." He placed his hand on her shoulder.

On the day of her first appointment with the counsellor, Chloe stood outside the front of the office. Reluctant to go in. She knew that once she crossed this threshold, it would commit her. For the first time, she must go back to her childhood to dig up the dark and undefined past. A part that was still defining her present. Ms Black opened her door with a warm, welcoming smile.

"I saw you through the window, Ms," she said.

"Ms Chloe," she replied.

"I could see you were hesitating to knock, so I thought it might help. Welcome. Come in; take a seat. Would you like tea or coffee?"

Chloe still felt uncomfortable. Avoided eye contact as she stepped into the office. It was gloomy without being oppressive. She let out a sigh as she sat on the beautiful, coloured seat. The ambience of the room was appealing. The artistic decorations dotted around the room provided a sense of peace. A peace that she longed for desperately.

"I would prefer some water, thanks" Chloe replied, leaning back into the seat.

"Coming right up," said Ms Black, leaving the room.

She returned within minutes and handed Chloe a long glass filled with cold water. She, at a snail's pace, sipped some as she watched Ms Black over the rim of the glass. Chloe settled into the seat without delay opposite her.

"I understand you might not be ready to discuss everything at the moment. But let me take you through how this would work...."

As Ms Black continued, Chloe's mind drifted off until it lost her in reflection. Trying to make sense of her life meant that she had unravelled the web that was strangling her.

Chloe must decide which doors to open, which exits to close. Possibly what to do with the rest of her life. Today, she started that process by opening up to someone she must pretend to trust.

At the second meeting, after they had settled in their seats.

Ms Black said, "I know it is going to be an arduous task for you to talk. Most people I work with are reluctant to do so. I usually suggest that they narrated their experiences in the 'third person'. It might make it easier for you to face your fears and depression."

Chloe lifted her face, giving Ms Black a glimmer of a smile, revealing her beautiful dimples. Chloe relaxed a little more.

"Yes, I reason I could do that," she responded unruffled. She took a deep breath,

"It all began one evening in Ibadan, Nigeria, West Africa, in 1978..."