The voice in his head got even louder, but Smith refused to listen. He had tried to believe in God's words, even if he didn't always understand the meaning of the mostly mystery prophecies. But now it was too much. He felt too exhausted to move on.
Curled up in a ball he was lying on his small bed in the Mountain. His body still hurt from the fight last night. But much worse the memories which followed him into his dreams, painful and horribly vivid.
No, this couldn't be. Rose was at school, where the nuns took good care of her and other children. Miles and miles away from the Mountain, from all the darkness and danger. He hadn't seen her for ages.
Still reluctantly he opened his eyes. And there she was; a red sweater, jeans, her long hair bound together in a ponytail. Just as she had looked like when he had seen her for the last time. She smiled at him.
„God has told me to come here because you need me,“ she said.
And put her arms around his neck; he could feel her warmth and her breath on his skin. And he didn't care anymore if she was just a fantasy or reality.
The dam broke. When he finally stopped crying the sun was already rising. Rose was gone, but he felt ready for the new day.