It was a dark and stormy night, and Sister Mary was on her way back to the convent after a long day of ministering to the sick and poor in the nearby village. She had taken a shortcut through the jungle, hoping to avoid the worst of the downpour, but as she trudged through the muddy underbrush, the rain only seemed to get heavier.
Just as Sister Mary was starting to lose hope of ever finding her way out of the jungle, she saw a glimmer of light in the distance. She quickened her pace, her heart filled with gratitude and relief as the light grew brighter and clearer.
As she emerged from the jungle, she saw that the light was coming from a small temple nestled amongst the trees. Sister Mary hurried towards it, her wet habit clinging to her body as she splashed through puddles and dodged low-hanging branches.
When she finally reached the temple, she was startled to find that the doors were wide open, despite the storm raging outside. Sister Mary hesitated for a moment, wondering if she should go inside, but the thought of getting out of the rain was too tempting to resist.
She stepped through the doors, shaking the water from her habit as she looked around. The temple was small and dimly lit, but there was a warm, comforting glow emanating from a fireplace in the corner. Sister Mary sighed with relief and made her way over to the fireplace, hoping to dry off and get some rest before continuing on her journey.
As she approached the fireplace, she was startled by a loud, drunken voice.
“Who’s there?” slurred the voice. “Is that you, Mary?”
Sister Mary froze in fear as a disheveled, drunken man stumbled out of the shadows. He was wearing tattered clothes and reeked of alcohol, and Sister Mary could see that he was holding a bottle of whiskey in his hand.
“Please, sir,” said Sister Mary, her voice shaking. “I mean you no harm. I was just seeking shelter from the storm.”
The man glared at her for a moment, his bloodshot eyes seeming to bore into her soul. Then, with a snarl, he lunged at her, his bottle raised high.
Sister Mary screamed and ran for the door, her heart pounding in her chest. She burst out of the temple and into the storm, her wet habit flapping behind her as she stumbled through the jungle.
She had no idea where she was going, but she knew she had to keep running. Behind her, she could hear the drunken man crashing through the underbrush, his curses and threats echoing through the trees.
As Sister Mary ran, she saw a glimmer of hope in the distance. It was a car, parked on the side of the road, its headlights shining through the rain like a beacon of hope. Sister Mary raced towards it, her feet pounding the wet earth as she prayed for deliverance.
When she reached the car, she was relieved to find that it was unlocked. She scrambled inside, slamming the door shut behind her and locking it for good measure.
But as she sat there, panting and trembling, Sister Mary realized that something was wrong. The car had no doors. She was trapped, completely vulnerable to the drunken man and whatever other dangers lurked in the jungle.
Sister Mary closed her eyes and prayed for strength, her heart racing as she listened to the storm raging outside. Suddenly, she heard a faint sound over the howling wind. It was the sound of footsteps, approaching the car.
Sister Mary held her breath, her heart pounding as the footsteps grew louder and closer. She could see the shadowy figure of a woman through the rain-streaked windows, her white dress glowing eerily in the darkness.
The woman stopped at the car and peered inside, her face obscured by the shadows. Sister Mary gasped in shock as she recognized the woman’s face. It was the same woman who had visited her in the convent the week before, claiming to have a message from the Virgin Mary. Sister Mary had dismissed the woman as a lunatic, but now she wasn’t so sure.
The woman seemed to sense Sister Mary’s presence because she suddenly turned and disappeared into the storm. Sister Mary watched in horror as the woman’s white dress seemed to blend into the rain and mist, as if she were becoming one with the elements.
Sister Mary couldn’t bear to stay in the car any longer. She had to get out and find a way to safety. She looked around frantically, trying to come up with a plan. And then she saw it - a faint glow in the distance. It was a house, its windows shining like beacons in the darkness.
Sister Mary knew she had to reach that house, no matter what it took. She stumbled out of the car and into the storm, her feet slipping and sliding on the wet ground as she ran towards the light. She could hear the drunken man crashing through the jungle behind her, his curses and threats growing louder and more frenzied.
As she reached the house, Sister Mary saw that it was abandoned and dilapidated, its windows broken and its doors hanging off their hinges. But it was the only hope she had, and she knew she had to take her chances.
She stumbled through the doorless entrance, her eyes scanning the dark, musty rooms for any sign of shelter. She finally found a room with an old, rickety bed in the corner, and she collapsed onto it with a sigh of relief.
As she lay there, shivering and exhausted, Sister Mary couldn’t help but wonder what other horrors the jungle held. But she knew that she had to stay strong and keep the faith, no matter what challenges she faced.
She closed her eyes and prayed for the strength and courage to make it through the night, and she hoped that the dawn would bring a new day and a new beginning.