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From the very moment that she was born, Heather Chandler knew that she was special.
Even before she could walk, before she learned to command a room in the way she had so quickly mastered, Heather knew she was destined for more. More than those around her, perhaps more than any human who had ever walked the earth.
The first time it was truly evident was when Heather was around two years old. Three queens had appeared at her mother’s door bearing gifts of gold, drain cleaner and ms dior. These noble figures all bowed before her, their hands at her feet after they had presented their gifts to her. Even years later, at the age of sixteen, the priceless treasures presented to Heather still sat proudly near her at all times, as a testament and reassurance of her worth and future status as the savior.
Now, it would not have been fair to say she had come to this conclusion herself, not at all, ever since she was a child, her mother, Jessica had told her of all the amazing things she would do one day, it was giddying to Heather, knowing she would be the one to save the human race, to be important. She knew she was a God amongst all men, she knew she was different. Strangers had approached Heather in temples, kneeling before her, offering meagre gifts up in trembling hands with dirtied fingers and calloused palms, because like Heather herself, they understood her significance in this world, her world and soon, everyone else would know too.
As she got older, Heather also became aware of another fact. Aside from the fact she was meant to be the saviour of man, she knew one thing, so certainly, so indubitably that even when she failed to grasp her duties as the messiah, there was a concrete piece of information that no matter what, she knew to be pure and fixed in the stars that her faith in it could never be deterred.
And that fact was this, Heather Chandler was beautiful. Not just beautiful, downright urethral. From the way her strawberry blonde curls cascaded down her back effortlessly, providing this angelic hue which was only reinforced by her doe eyes, exuding innocence, to the ocean colour in her right eye providing a softness that made people want to swim in them whereas her left had a striking emerald colour which she was often told had the alluring ferocity of a feline.
Her nose was buttoned, no protruding ridges or bumps jutted from it, only light freckles kissed the skin and scattered underneath her eyes onto her high yet soft cheekbones. Her lower lip was plump and painted red, the same red of the wine she would sip at weddings, the same colour as the alcohol that burned as it slipped down her throat when she drank. Her upper lip had a clear cupid’s bow and was painted the same as her lower, like wine, like royalty, like blood, like suffering.
She had assumed largely her irresistibility came from her mother who was also very beautiful, with similarly painted lips but rather than blonde curls, Jessica had flaming ginger hair, with many more freckles dusting her face than Heather. But Jessica had always adamantly denied these claims as she was a modest woman, instead saying Heather’s beauty was a blessing of the holy ghost, showing an outward sign of Heather’s inward grace.
Heather Mcnamara was always a quiet girl, a humble soul, She had never felt she had a voice to make a change, never had words to say, was never one to speak out, she lived out in the desert for quite a few years, eating just honey and locusts, she believed in a simple life, not once caring for worldly possessions. She found joy in her uncomplicated life. She was satisfied, contempt. But somehow, though she had never been the type to strive for more she found herself craving purpose, for the first time in her life, Heather McNamara wanted more, but she didn’t know what.
That is until one night an angel who went by Lisanne guided her to a river and whispered in her ear, “you will be her baptist, you have been called by our God, Kim Walker, to tell everyone of the coming messiah”. Before kissing her cheek and disappearing.
This meek girl who had never felt the urge to do something meaningful, had only ever felt apathy towards her religion, was now filled with a magnificent passion, a fire in her soul had been ignited as people traveled from all over Jerusalem to be baptised by her, she found a love like no other than washing Kim's children of their sins, it was an honour, a privilege gifted to her by the most high and Heather McNamara fully intended to use that gift.
However, though baptisms and ceremonies fulfilled her and brought her endless gaiety, nothing could ever compare to when she would talk about the saviour. Heather would climb atop a boulder and sit down as an enticed throng silently gathered to hear her words. She would regale the crowds of listeners with the promised messiah who would walk the earth and free them all from the clutches of sin and bring them the promised land.
It was the thing that drove her, the idea that she centered her very being around. Kim Walker was going to join the mortals on earth as one of them! How could anyone not be filled with high spirits at that? Heather knew she had her part to play in Kim’s plan and she was determined to please her loving Goddess, she would do her job diligently and without error. And even though so many people came, not once did she forget a face, never forgot a single person who had come to her to be cleansed, she adored them all, young and old, big and small, poor and rich. These were loving and kind souls who came to her, truly humble people.
It was a usual day for Heather McNamara, the sun was high in the sky, the blistering heat only making the river more tempting to jump in, it was a crystal clear blue, reflections of the sun glinting from the surface, winking at her to succumb to the urge but Heather shook these thoughts off of herself as she had a job to do and judging by the crowd that had gathered that day it was a big one.
She managed to organise everyone into a large line and began her ceremonies. About an hour in, Heather noticed someone pushing through the crowd, parting it with shoves and sharp words. Eventually the impatient person reached the edge of the river. It was a girl, clad in red with two eyes painted in different shades. Heather was momentarily stopped by this girl’s stunning looks but quickly gathered herself and kept her smile on.
“Hii! Are you here to be baptised? If so then I’m afraid you’ll have to go to the back of the queue, but I’ll be with you soon enough, no worries!” The girl in red only stepped into the water and began tying back her golden locks, seemingly ignoring Heather’s polite request.
Heather McNamara frowned, the sounds of the water lapping must have stopped this girl from hearing her, or perhaps she was deaf? Nevertheless she cleared her throat and spoke again,
“Uh excuse me!” she waited for the girl to turn, indicating she had her attention before speaking again, “yeah, you, you're gonna have to wait in line with everyone else, if that's okay?”
Finally, the red girl spoke, her voice was seemingly smooth like silk but had an undeniable underlying edge to it, the way a rose had a thorn, spiked and poised concealed beneath its petals.
“Oh, sweetie no, I’m Heather Chandler, not to brag but I’m gonna save everyone here from eternal damnation so the least they can do is get out of my way. Now chop chop I haven’t got all day.” Heather Chandler clapped her hands exaggeratedly, as if showing this whole ordeal was beneath her and she had much better things to be doing.
Heather McNamara was dumbfounded, she truly had no words for this girl, she didn't look at all dehydrated or plagued, in fact there was an air of clarity in her eyes, contrasting the haze that the heat had smothered the crowd with. No, this girl was quite well, but there was no possible way Kim had chosen her to be the literal saviour of man. No, this girl was surely lying.
It didn’t matter anyway if this girl was lying or even if she actually believed she was Kim’s incarnate, she had still cut through the line. Mac brought her thumb and index finger to the bridge of her nose. Sighing, she began to speak again with the most authorial voice she could manage,
“Look, ms Chandler, I appreciate you wanna get baptised but we are all children of Kim here, so please just go to the back of the-”
Suddenly, the sky darkened. The earth shook and the very sky above mac’s head seemed to split open above her head, she stood, frozen in awe as a perpetual beam of light shone down from the heavens, reflecting off of the now rippling waves of the river, the ground cracked and rumbled as if something deep below the earth had awakened and was trying to claw its way to the surface. The winds picked all the dust from the ground, swirling and spinning up to the sky, holding out a hand to the forming clouds. A booming voice rang down from above, though its volume didn’t conceal the undeniable softness to it,
Heather McNamara fell to her knees, tears springing to her eyes as she held them shut and listened. For this was it..the voice of Kim walker.. her Goddess.
“This is my child whom I shall be pleased with.” The faceless voice rang out in the valley, causing the ground to shake once more… but then, the light that had spilled from the tear in the sky disappeared. The waters stilled and no evidence remained of the intervention that had just occurred apart from the flurry of stunned whispers within the baffled throng.
Heather Chandler tossed her perfectly coiffed hair over her shoulder, the smugness radiating off of her in waves, she flashed her pearly white teeth towards Mac,
“Now about that baptism.” she began.