Heavens Before
Marginalized by society and mistreated by her own family, Annah befriends a young man she's never seen before. Shem is captivated by Annah's courage, and he risks everything to help her gain her freedom. Trusting in the Most High, Annah marries Shem and joins her strange new family in their solitary faith that will ultimately separate them from an ancient world of amazing beauty and appalling violence--a world fast approaching the unimaginable catastrophe of the Great Flood. Out of this...
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Marginalized by society and mistreated by her own family, Annah befriends a young man she's never seen before. Shem is captivated by Annah's courage, and he risks everything to help her gain her freedom. Trusting in the Most High, Annah marries Shem and joins her strange new family in their solitary faith that will ultimately separate them from an ancient world of amazing beauty and appalling violence -- a world fast approaching the unimaginable catastrophe of the Great Flood. Out of this chaos, only eight people will survive. Their world is our world. Their future is our own.
Annah ran until her lungs burned like fire. Her mouth felt dry as dust, and her feet stung almost unbearably. Slowing her pace, she looked down and saw that the thorns of the fields had torn her feet. Even her ankles were bleeding. She would go to the river and rest, drink some water, bathe her cuts, and wash away her tears. If only the river could rinse away my sorrow as easily as it will remove my blood. Her head drooping, her hair falling like a black curtain about her face, Annah walked through a thick grove of trees down to the sparkling, swift-flowing river. Sitting down heavily, she dangled her legs over the embankment and let the water rush over her feet, cool and soothing. The water directly before her was clear and lovely, but the middle of the river looked deep, fast, and disturbingly enticing. How easy it would be to slide into the water and simply drift out of this life. Slowly she bent, dipped her aching hands into the clear water, and cupped the cool liquid to her mouth. Wiping her lips, she stared at the river, contemplating. I'm not even forty years oldâ╬â•'not even halfway to my first kentum. I'ma has lived two kentums, Yerakh one. Our father lived three kentums before Yerakh killed him. Father, you could have lived at least five kentums more if Yerakh had not been so greedy. You were the only person who ever really loved me; I know that now. I wish I had not seen you die. After all these years my pain should be less. Why am I still crying for you? Her grief flowed out now in streams of tears punctuated by wracking sobs. I must be going mad, she told herself at last. Yerakh will beat me for running from him. But I don't want to go back. I'm so tired of this life! I'm even tired of crying. Finally spent, Annah bent to rinse her face. She wiped her eyes with her veil and stared into the river once more. Perhaps she should let the river carry her away. Her pain would be over. No more of Yerakh's beatings or Iltani's scorn or Parah's indifference.
