“The prophesized days of darkness have been upon us for centuries. An illusion created by the fallen angels had given birth to the cycle of life and death. Mankind documented interactions with these demigods and formed religious beliefs in favor of blessings. As humanity continued to evolve faith became the agenda used to conquer territories in the name of “the one true God”. Once America was born mankind and the gods they believed in were given a space to launch the great experiment that would circumvent and conquer every god so that only one would remain. E pluribus unum, how the many become one. This Roman clause supported by European dictatorships invaded lands, captured its people, and imprisoned their Gods through slavery. Every resource was stolen for profit and power by sacrificing indigenous souls to their almighty God. Where are the ones who will save us, or are we meant to save ourselves? Thank you for watching, please leave a….”
Hi“I don’t know how much more of this I can take,” A listless 42 year old Miara Jackson mumbled to herself while returning to her desk after a 15 min work break. She just finished viewing a video posted by Rebel Clans, a YouTube channel she’s followed for a few years. Miara had been working in Center City Philadelphia as a customer service representative for TelArk Tech Innovations for the past five years. She has felt overwrought, underpaid and undervalued for quite some time. Lately she’s been wrestling with her poor performance evaluations at work. Her customer billing inquiry calls have exceeded the 4 minute 59 second allotted time for the past 4 months and her quality assurance scores made her feel emotionally inept, as if she were immune to empathy. To add to her resignations she was one negative evaluation away from being fired from a job she hated but depended on. However, Miara didn’t have time to think about her traumas; she couldn’t even think about celebrating. Her life was centered around TelArk with its thought-reducing mundane tasks and life strangling policies. Her lack of fulfillment made her move about life ever pressingly robotic detaching from her identity and her desires.
“Thank you for calling TelArk this Mi…”
“I don’t care who this is.” A man with a raspy voice shouted into the phone. As he continued Miara had reached her breaking point. Since 2020 the world has faced a massive lockdown due to Covid; People of color were being propagandized by the left and right wing media; Americans were told the pandemic was over while humanity argued over vaccine hesitancy, to efficacy, and to wondering if the technology contributed to the rise of Sudden Adult Death Syndrome. Primarily, Miara could no longer be a makeshift Jesus sacrificing her peace for a company’s clientele whom they cared very little for. She hung up on the customer, signed off, called human resources and with confidence said,
“I quit.”
Miara left the office and stepped out into the icy air of January in Philadelphia, a place that’s not always so sunny. The aroma was so much sweeter now though she had chosen the path of uncertainty. She wasn’t quite ready to head home, so she decided to take a walk through Olde City. When she arrived at the Liberty Bell she marveled over its universal meaning and her nuanced perceptions.The last time she had visited Olde City was during a Lawton Elementary school trip in the late 1980’s.This historical landmark reminded her that there was a massive fracture in what freedom represented for her and many others. In her eyes America should have always stood for freedom for all. But instead it ranked people by breed and used spiritual concepts to overpower Native populations, their resources and their land. Slavery had been a mechanism used to obtain what never belonged to the victors and to enrich the legacy of their kingdoms. Once the torch was passed to America’s Jim Crow, hourly wages and systemic greed replaced slavery.
“You either win it all or lose everything in this life. In the end people really do suffer from lack of knowledge,”she sighed, turned around and walked away knowing that she made the right choice to leave TelArk.
She made it to the parking lot and got into her 2016 Hyundai Tucson. After igniting the engine she clamped her phone onto the wireless charging mount and pressed to play the next song on her playlist, “555” by Jimmy Eat World. As the first chorus dropped the song began to lose transmission similar to switching between AM/FM Stations.
“I’m doing the things I’ve been told
Everyday
Everyday
Everyday
Then why does it feel like I’m lo…..”
“Hello….hello…..Mia..ar…do yo…. Miara, do you hear me?” Said the voice of a man breaking through the track. Miara first thought that there was an issue with her radio until the man spoke again.
“Miara, if you can hear me?”I’ve been searching for you for many lifetimes.” his voice echoed from every direction.
Frightened, she demanded.“Who are you?”.
“You Must Remember Who You Are.” he repeated as the song cut in and out erratically until it abruptly ceased. Storm clouds filled up the sky as lightning ushered them in.
“Pol……….ar……..is.” the voice hissed.
Rain poured down from the heavens and tap danced on the roof of her car like tiny soldiers gearing up for battle. The sky darkened with each clash of thunder and bolt of lightning and Miara had no choice but to find refuge. She pulled into a parking lot on the westend of Kelly Drive overlooking The Art Museum of Philadelphia.
“MIARA!” He shouted with authority.
His mighty voice commanded the earth to shake. An Apparition began forming where the Art Museum stood and Miara was compelled to step out of the car to gain a better perspective of what was taking shape. Reality traversed between the present and a bygone era of Philadelphia before the Art Museum was erected and before there was a William Penn. A tall dark man dressed in 15th Century Moorish clothing began descending down from the heavens towards Miara. Gentle and golden rays of light lit the path behind him. The light was a part of him and emitted a powerful frequency revealing her true purpose. A wave of memories washed over Miara as she recalled why she was sent to this planet. Long ago she performed a powerful spell to protect the planet and its savior from an Alien race that needed the lifeforce of enlightened indigenous populations to survive.
“Do you remember now?” He beckoned as he lovingly gazed into her eyes.
“Emmanuelle?” her eyes dazzled like tiny shooting stars as tears began flowing down her face.
“Yes, my queen.”
“How long has it..” she trailed off but continued
“The fallen angels?”
“We lost but,” Emanuelle had begun to explain.
“And Sela?” She interjected
“She knows everything.” replied Emanulle.
“Let us go to her then.” She said with urgency.
The fate of the world was in jeopardy and the savior needed to be found before the Age of Crucifixion had begun. A moment before time rippled back to the present they joined hands and proceeded to walk into the light.
To be continued…..
This is the first time I’ve posted an original story. This short story is part of a larger series I’ve been developing for a while. I had to do a lot of research to form a cohesive story that was both entertaining and filled with some facts. I am excited to share topics that peak my interests and allow me to grow creatively before an audience.
Blessings
Miya P.
Yesterday I spoke to my inspiring and amazing cousin about how I’ve felt over the years about her. I honestly had to admit that for years I was jealous because I did not have the same opportunities and she was always highly favored by my Aunts and Uncles. For much of my time here on earth I was enslaved with feelings of inadequacy and the outlet for how I felt towards those whom I believed were blessed and loved by God misguided me towards my own self-hatred. From the outside you can look at someone else’s situation and believe that they have the easy life. That belief transformed into so many internal weaknesses throughout my years that I did not recognize the relationships that were impacted by my brokenness. A broken foundation has shown me many things and today I want to talk about Time Management.
In a wicker basket chair my grandmother is seated in a painted picture frame overlooking the dining room. A place where all family gatherings should take place. The current state of the dining room is in grave danger. It now collects dust from the familial functions that once took place every thanksgiving and there are only shadows left from the gifts that were once passed along the dining room table. The spirit of love has a home and for me that home was always when I was surrounded by an abundance of God’s blessings through the art of sharing great cuisine. I can smell the stuffing and turkey now when I collect every memory of what once was sacred. How do I bring back the importance of my foundation? I listen to my grand mother’s voice in my head and she proclaims, “You must continue the tradition of lighting up the place where we bow our heads and give all thanks to God.”
The Happy Nappy Project 