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I wanted to share this with you folks. Get your thoughts and reactions. I wrote this a pretty long while ago, still searching for a place to sell it. . .but there aren't many Christian Fiction Magazines out there. . .ah well. . .

THE LILY PRINCESS

Pale white lilies decorated the field. Lilies were Abigail's favorite. The well-groomed, lush carpet of soft green grass that now outlined her frail, eight-year-old-body, was covered in more than a few varieties of colorful flowers -- daisies, wildflowers, and even poppy flowers -- but lilies were definitely her favorite. There were many days when she'd tuck one into her auburn hair, just above her right ear, and pretend she was a decorated and cherished young princess. Her billowy white gown had grass stains along the lower bordering, and she'd accidentally torn it in a number of insignificant places, just here or there, but with a little imagination it became a dress fit for a young princess.

Currently she'd decided it was best to take a vacation from the many responsibilities of being a princess (which included many harsh disciplines such as twirling around for minutes on end without tripping over your own feet). Today she was making her way across the beautiful field of flowers, comforted by the warm caress of the sun's shimmering rays, to a very special place. Of all the delightfully curious places in the garden where she lived, this place was her favorite -- and covered in lilies. Her cerulean eyes scaled over the seemingly endless horizon until her gaze fell upon a depression, a dip no more than ten minutes away.

Moments later she approached the depression. A solitary pond, sparkling in the sunlight and as blue as the daytime sky, as blue as Abigail's eyes. It wasn't huge, but it was deep. Once, while on an important expedition for her kingdom, she'd dived into the pond in search of hidden away treasure but never reached the bottom. But it wasn't the mysterious depths of the pond that interested her now, but its deep blue surface. She made her way to the edge of the water and drew her legs up under her, adding yet another muddy stain to the knees of her dress to be later cleansed away by the lather of creative thought. She remained still for a while, and simply took the time to breathe. The air in the garden was fantastic, and she appreciated it even though it was a pleasure she'd always known. It was a constant barrage of soft and subtle sweet scents of lavender and orchid on crisp clean air. But the air here seemed even sweeter, even cleaner and refreshing. She breathed deep, exhaled, then breathed deeper still.

The young girl smiled, then leaned forward to get a better look at what should have been her own reflection. That was the assumption she had made three months ago upon first discovering the pond; but every time she returned the experience was just as exhilarating. First, it did just as expected -- her porcelain reflection, distorted by the occasional wind-brought ripple, stared back at her with a soft smile on thin lips that she'd not been able to rid herself of ever since she'd found this place (or ever since it appeared rather). A soft breeze played with a few stray strands of her hair and tickled her face as she leaned in further. Seconds passed...and slowly the occasional ripples on the surface of the pond began to tremble more, to wobble as they snaked across. Her eyes widened expectantly, and slowly several images formed out of the light reflecting on the pond.

The first image was that of a young woman, much older than Abigail, sixteen or seventeen. She was short, and she let her auburn hair (the very same shade as Abigail's it seemed) fall straight down, ending just above the small of her back. The girl wore a long white gown that was much like Abigail's but, she thought, was much more beautiful -- fit for a princess; and it fell over a round belly and beautifully tanned skin. She was sleeping by the looks of things. Abigail had come to call her Lilly, and thought the name of such a beautiful flower suited such a beautiful princess. Beside her, another image appeared in the waters reflective surface just as clearly, and Lilly began to fade. This one was a man, and judging by the lighting Abigail guessed he wasn't anywhere near the sleeping princess. He was paler than the girl had been, and his pallid skin tone stood out under his coal black hair, blue eyes piercing.

The young eight year old had awoken in her own wonderland. A place void of boredom, of darkness, of cold...but also void of life. Even an imaginary kingdom didn't hide the truth: Abigail was all alone. Sitting here near the pond was the closest she'd come in a while to others like her. She cherished the warm feeling it gave her. It wasn't the same as the comforting caress of the sunlight in the garden, it was very different. It was something inside her chest that swelled with a fuzzy sort of warmth.

Today, the young man whom she'd come to call Christopher (a name fit for a prince), seemed troubled. It was an emotion she wasn't too familiar with as far as she could remember since living in her dreamland. In fact, ever since waking up in the beautiful garden she'd felt very content...only when finding the pond did she really long for the company of others (who up until then, she didn't know even existed). But the look on his face concerned her a little, not that the concern could ever overwhelm the happiness she felt near the pond. He was even paler than usual, and he kept pacing and chewing at his nails. His reflection faded a little, and the red haired princess rippled into view again.

She was awake now, and messing around with a small, clear-looking mask. She poked at it at first, felt of the elastic band strapped to its edges, then at last slipped it over her face. She faded again, then soon enough, so did the man. Abigail didn't fret. The young girl knew they'd be back, and she'd be back as well. She lifted herself up and looked into the blue surface once last time, before finally heading back. She could've sat there forever, the carpet of lush grass was soft and comfortable, but she had plenty of time she knew. Besides, a princess couldn't very well sit around doing nothing for as long as forever (which she assumed was quite long) now could she? She had things to attend to -- imaginary dinners to attend, and by the looks of her "elegant dress" she'd have to speak to her royal maid about cleaning it up. Most importantly, Abigail was sleepy...and a princess needed her beauty sleep. There, minutes away from the mysterious pond, in a comfy patch of green grass and soft white lilies...Abigail slept.

And Abigail dreamt. She dreamt of waking up with the beautiful princess Lilly, and the prince Christopher. They were smiling, and so was she -- a bigger smile than she'd ever smiled even in her perfect garden. There were no voices, and not even the wind blowing in the grassy, flowery fields made a sound. There was only Abigail and the other two strangers. But they weren't strangers at all, they were her friends, her family. Lilly dipped a foot into the water which sent a ripple spiraling outward; she was laughing at something Christopher had said, and Abigail was laughing too.

Christopher, looking more handsome than ever, gave a bow to the young princess Abigail, and when he arose, he held a flower in hand. A lily, not unlike the ones in the field, but much more beautiful. It was large and seemed to bloom more every second, and it was whiter than anything she'd ever seen -- he was twirling it between his index finger and his thumb when without thinking, Abigail snatched it from him with a playful, muted giggle. His expression looked both surprised and amused. She turned and leaped into the the pond for a quick escape. Both he and Lilly followed, laughing as the water engulfed them and swirled about them. The young eight year old swam out to the very center of the pond, her billowing princess dress floated around her like a graceful spirit in the water as her family came nearer. They spread their arms as they floated nearer, and just as they reached her and closed around for a loving embrace the young girl awoke.

Abigail's breath caught as she was shocked out of her sweet dreams by a painful jolt that pulsed through her frail body. She was trembling, both pain and cold two entirely new feelings, neither of which she enjoyed. Her breath caught in her throat and she forced it out. Things smelled differently, she realized, standing in a panic. Things even tasted differently -- if she'd known the flavor she would've recognized it as bitter and metallic. Something was wrong. The pond. She was running before the thought or any logic of it really developed in her mind; stumbling over rocks and uneven depressions in the darkened field....darkened? She hadn't noticed before, but the sun was gone. Now instead the once intense blue sky was dark with rolling, black smoke -- something was definitely wrong. And why was the ground so rocky, she wondered.

All the questions now racing through her mind as quickly as she raced toward the lake (as quickly as her little legs could carry her) brought about a feeling entirely foreign to Abigail. It started in her heart much like the warmth when she was by the pond--but it was heavier, and spread out through her veins like a thin but weighty layer of ice and sedative, both making her weak and tremble. The little princess didn't know why but this had something to do with that pond. Something was happening in that place, that universe parallel to her own. But as she stumbled achingly onward, she realized it wasn't really finding answers that interested her. Certainly, something about the pond was off...but it was the only place she felt safe, and something told her that if she could be with Christopher and Lilly, everything would be alright. She was almost there...

Abigail nearly tripped when reached the lake, so startled by its eerie glow despite the scorched sky, and desperate to look inside its magical reflection. She was breathing heavily -- but couldn't remember ever being out of breath before -- each inhalation full of bitter rust and metal. Her blue eyes, now the only remnants of intense color left in this strange land, searched desperately for a reflection in its glassy surface, none came. Her heart sank. It had been upon awakening that she'd been bombarded by a wave of new emotions, and out of all of them, she hated this one the most. If it had a color, it would've been a sickly, bruised color of purple-black; and if it had had a form, it would've been a stinging poison-ink threading down her veins. It felt like the same poisonous ink was choking up in her throat, and eventually, her legs failed her and she collapsed there by the lake. An odd sensation burned her eyes, and soon they began to leak a warm liquid. There by the lake, for the first time since she'd arrived in this magical garden, Abigail began to cry.

Footsteps interrupted what up until now, had been an eerie sort of muted silence. The grass, now stiffer than before, crunched under the soles of someone's feet -- someone, or something. Her heart leapt into her throat and the little princess, cheeks stained with tears, looked up startled. What she saw was even more alarming: There, by the pond, just a few feet away, stood Lilly amongst a patch of her favorite flowers, as if she herself had sprouted up amongst them and was in fact, the most beautiful lily of them all. She wasn't smiling, but suddenly, Abigail was. If she'd known how to speak, if her lips hadn't refused to form the right words she would've shouted gleefully, forgetting about her pain.

"Lilly! Lilly! You've come to rescue me and take me home with you?" Instead she only choked out another sob. The grass behind her crunched some more, but she didn't turn to look. She was already distracted by what she saw next. There, not too far from Lilly, and only a few feet to the young girls right, stood Christopher. He was shouting, or at least he looked like he was, but no voice was coming out. He kept pointing to the girl angrily. What's he pointing at? Behind her? She turned -- too late, they had her. Men dressed in all white, faces obscured by hideous black masks, skin pale and bruised. Even through their gloves their hands felt cold on her arms as they yanked her roughly off her feet. She yelped. There was that feeling again, now more sharply in her arms.

Lilly was moving toward her now. Help me! She wanted to shout, but the words refused to come. Christopher wasn't moving any closer, he seemed unable to, kept beating at the air like some invisible barrier was keeping him away -- why, she wondered, were his cheeks so wet. Lilly was right upon her now; the flowers she once stood at had trailed out, growing in a lovely path at her feet where she walked. Abigail didn't know how much more of this intense feeling in her arms that she could handle, but she didn't care, Lilly was here, and she would save her from the bad men wouldn't she?

Lilly stopped just in front of the young princess who's tiny legs and feet dangled almost pathetically in the air, she was helpless, Lilly would help her. Christopher was on his knees now, beating the invisible barrier as hard as he could, his eyes streaming. Abigail felt bad for him. He was more worried than she. Maybe, she considered, he doesn't know Lilly like I do? A sharp pain shot through her chest, sharper than the feeling in her arms, than the soreness in her legs, and heavier than the feeling that had invaded her heart. She choked on the metallic air and had to force herself to take another breath through the coughing.

She turned back to the princess in front of her, who now held her fist against the young girls chest, metallic sliver in hand. It was so hard to breath. A red liquid, as red as the little princess's hair, trickled out from where the sliver had landed and onto the other's clenched fist. Abigail didn't know what this feeling was, but it didn't feel right. It was overwhelming; intense sharpness rippling out from the sliver in her chest, mixed with a heavy feeling in her heart. Her whole body trembled, the water in her eyes returned. What was Lilly doing? Certainly not... The word, the concept of what was happening escaped the child's mind.

Lilly pulled the sliver out, and more liquid, now thicker and darker, seeped from the young girl's chest. She sucked in a sharp breath of air, it tasted even more bitter than before, and now the metallic taste had filled her mouth like warm saliva. She tried to talk, tried to tell her friend, her sibling, her mother, that the sliver was hurting her. Her voice only came as a gurgled cry, then as a frustrated scream. Again, Lilly slammed the sliver into her chest, then pulled it back out, then slammed it in again. Until eventually it didn't hurt anymore, everything got sort of numb...and Abigail knew she hated this new feeling the most...Then, with the pain, her vision started to fade as well.

The young princess didn't know. She didn't know what this exhausting, empty, numbness was -- she didn't know she was dying. Christopher, she saw in a blur to her right, had fallen into a quivering mass of a man wailing in agony. Lilly's expression remained apathetic. Why was she doing this to her, she wondered. Had she done something wrong? I'm sorry... She wanted to say. I'm so sorry, forgive me? The pleading words echoed through her mind, but her lips refused to obey her thoughts. Her vision spiked black for a moment then returned. It sent a shudder through her otherwise limp body. What was this feeling, she wondered -- she'd felt so many so foreign to her lately. She was so sleepy. Her gaze drifted lazily to the lilies at the girls feet, they were wilted, which was a shame -- they were, after all, her favorite flower of all. Then, ignoring the metallic spittle trailing down her chin and the bitter taste in her mouth...the little princess shut her eyes, and fell into a deep sleep.

"I feel that the greatest destroyer of peace today is abortion, because it is a war against the child, a direct killing of the innocent child, murder by the mother herself." - Saint Teresa

The story is touching. I love it! crying

:O

It's so touching!!!

Very good story, you're a good writer.