If you thought the story ended with a jovial revival of self acceptance, then you were wrong…. So very wrong.
The brave girl gave a warm but half hearted smile to the old man. She squeezed his hands and said, ‘ let me tell you a story’
‘There once was a girl who detested snakes. She always thought a good snake was a dead one. She never entertained the idea of having a snake in her life for they frightened her. One day a snake came slithering up to her and instead of killing it she listened to its sweet hiss filled lies. She cut ties with those she loved. She knew deep in her heart that snakes were dangerous but she swore she could turn that snake into a lion. She knew that if she tried hard enough the scales would fall off of that snake and everything would be different. She swore she saw all the qualities of a lion while she was being bitten by a snake. As the venom sank deeper and deeper into her veins, her chest started pounding. She no longer thought clearly the venom had attacked every part of her body. The snake swore that his venom wasn’t poisonous. That it was the girl’s mind that was causing all this pain. The girl couldn’t understand what was wrong with her so she gave more of herself to the snake. The snake had coiled himself so tightly around the girl that she had turned blue. He kept whispering to her that this was true love. Pain equaled love. Hurting equaled adoration. Abuse equaled everlasting. As the life was being choked out of her a tribe of people had cut her loose from the snake’s grip. She was finally free from the snake but not from her own mistakes. She had given up everything for the serpent. She didn’t know who she was anymore. She tried to find normal again but couldn’t. She tried to find God again but couldn’t so she decided to take her own life. What was her life worth anymore? She was dirty and used. No one would want a victim but rather a victor. She wasn’t that. She was a white canvas that had been painted black never to return to the original print. She was a goner. She was a priceless painting that had been torn to shreds. Worthless. Ugly. Stupid. She deserved the ridicule from those around her.’
The old man listened intently to the brave girl’s story. He quietly asked her, ‘Did the girl succeed in killing herself?’
Hot tears started to fill the brave girl’s eyes as she whispered, ‘no.’
The old man then asked,’ Do you know how the antidote for venom is created? The venom from the snake is injected into a horse. The horse creates the antibodies used to fight the venom. Did the girl in the story know that the antibodies she created from the venom could be used to save another victim’s life?’