I'll · Eat · Your · Heart · Out.

This is the book I am currently writting. I will post more as I write it. Read up!!

“Are you there God...Well, are you!?”
Chapter I
“Thank you God for everything that you have done and everything you haven’t. For you know what is truly best for me; a 16 year old kid. Each night; same bed, same pillow, same position. I try not to be so selfish and I normally never pray for something that I want. I try not to, but it’s hard. I’d rather give than receive something that I want. It’s probably something I won’t use in the next year anyway. I try to think about people who are poor, sick and all that other jazz. I forget it sometimes though and sometimes I forget to pray for my family. I’m sorry God. I’m also sorry for praying that some girl will look at me in a different light. I’m sorry for ever asking you for a girl to confess her undying love for me too. I’ve tried to stop it, You know that. So I guess I should pray for something right. I think the best way to get everybody is to say that I hope You bless everybody on this Earth. Even criminals, terrorists, assholes, ignorant people too. You could bless them with the knowledge you have bestowed upon me. Thank you God. Amen.”
I feel alone whenever I pray. I don’t think there is anyone around me; at least no one that I can see. I don’t mind that because I think God heard me somehow. I bitch about life enough, I’m sure he heard something. I guess that night was different for once. Whenever I close my eyes in a room, I can feel the other people there. Kind of like spidey sense. I felt something in my room that night, but I didn’t mind. I could have been murdered that night because I felt safe in my bed. Ever since that last amen, I felt like there was this figure pressing down on my chest and face. The atmospheric pressure in my room must have increased, I would soon be shitting out my intestines from it. I could see the block figures of furniture in my room. Whenever it gets dark, my eyes shift so I can see images that are a slight color off from black. But I can’t see whoever is in my room. I know someone is there though, I mean, my spidey sense is never wrong. I try sifting positions in my bed. I go into a semi-fetal position and hold my extra pillow tightly. Burying my face in my pillow I smell the scent of my shampoo and continue to bury my face to sniff my linen pillow sheet.
A sudden cough creates a sonic boom that erupts in my room, but I can’t recognize the sound of it. It’s all distorted in my head, so many animal and human voices trying to fit its way into my ear. Turning myself over and facing my door, I push myself up with my hands behind my back so I’m in a reclined position. With my head towards the door, I finally see a figure that isn’t a piece of my furniture. The only problem is that the shape won’t stay. Closing and re-closing my eyes trying to make sense out of something that is causing a sharp pain beneath my eyes.
“Who’s there?”, I state in a cowardice voice. No one replies and I can only hope that I am having a dream. “Come on, seriously, who’s there?” With each word my voice somehow starts to become brave and they jump out of my mouth before my brain can realize it. Once enough adrenaline has reached my testicles, I swing my body around and try to plant my feet on the ground. My heel crunches down on DVD cases that I forgot to pick up and my left big toe just so happens to knock over my glass of chocolate milk. “Damn”, I shutter to myself in the air that becomes colder with each breath. Suddenly the air starts to even out, and the light in my room becomes slightly lighter. Just enough so you can actually see the objects of everything that is in the room, but you can’t make out the details. I stand up to talk to this figure but my legs give out from underneath me, hurdling my body to the dark blue carpeted floor. In the back of my mind, I finally come to the conclusion that my glasses might be of some use now. Searching on the floor with my hands trying to get my glasses, I come across a foot. Far from my body, my hand has touched upon a foot that gives my body some warmth. Touch to touch, I begin to have a sensation sweep across my body. Within seconds my serotonin jump starts and a smile is smeared across my face. Slowly tilting my head up to get a glimpse of this warm footed figure, a sudden crack in my neck echoes across a now light room. I still think that if I found my glasses first I might be able to recognize this figure. With that sudden thought, with the sudden chemical reaction that sparks the idea of glasses in my head, my eyesight sharpens. Normally, I’d be pissing my pants by now but the warmth that glows in my body prohibits me from doing so. With this figures magic, I fell back on my ass and stared at a wonder. It destroys every wonder that humans has claimed and labeled. I can only gaze at it’s face and already feel such comfort, as if my body has been re-inserted into my mother’s womb. With my hands at bay on the ground, my feet curl backwards and lay comfortable in front of me. With a mouth wide open, as if receiving food on a spoon, I drool ever so slightly in front of this person. An arm slowly leaves this figures side and with such ease opens his palm in front of me.

“Here.”

It spoke. With such a manly tone to it, I felt as if I was comforted by my father. It had such a feminine tone to it, as if I had fallen in love all over again. I think to myself it would be a wise choice to touch such a divine hand. “I don’t know”, a voice shouted out within me.

“Please, I’m only here to help.”

Help. That’s all he had to say to me in order for my sinful, coarse hand to touch His. He, turned the word help into something of desire. As if help now was a term of endearment. I could only reply to him with the simple gesture of touching His hand.

As my hand is slowly gripped by His hand, I feel a euphoria inhibit my body. My hand is secured in his hand, and I can feel the sweat escaping mine. I don’t know if it is because I still don’t know what is going on or the fact that I am in complete ecstasy and don’t give a damn about what is going on around me. I don’t even lift myself off the ground when he is pulling me up. His strength pulls me up with no trouble, it was as delicate as fine woven silk. I am elevated and am standing on my toes but somehow feel like an ant compared to His stature.
I’m not breathing. All air has been cut off to my depraved lungs but it’s okay. I don’t need air next to Him. Air is second nature and second cause. He is the first and He causes all. Breathing only wastes energy. There is no air in my lungs now, I should be hitting the floor and two seconds away from Death. I’m still holding His hand and feel better than ever.

“I’m sorry for making you fall, Joseph.”

Imagine telling him that sorry isn’t good enough? Imagine saying that he should give you money or that you want to fight Him?!

“No, I don’t think anyone one would say that to Me.”

“What?” I act like I’m surprised at what he just said. I don’t think I feel anything besides complete happiness and security at the moment.

“I don’t think that anyone would say that sorry wasn’t enough or that anyone would want to fight Me or even try to get My money.”

Hey, who could argue with Him? He made you and he can destroy you. So why aren’t I afraid of him? I am sinful and I have done bad things, who knows, he could be here to take my soul. What if I have done so many bad things that he doesn’t want me to live anymore?

“Why do you say such awful things?”

I don’t know how to respond. Even thinking of what I’m going to say will be predicted by Him. “I’m sorry, I really am, please, I want to live!” I am now begging to the Man who cannot be persuaded.

“Answer me.”

He doesn’t even sound upset when he says that. Normally those words ring a tone of harsh punishment by my mother or father. I have to respond, but all these thoughts make it hard for me to answer Him.

“Rest child. I’m not here to take your life. You should know that whenever I come to my children, it’s for good.”

I know. I just am scared, you know about Death and all.

“It’s okay. Please, sit down on your bed and let me explain this for you.”

I would like to, I really would but my feet don’t want to budge.

“Here.”

I am now being picked up by God. His hands are two soft clouds under my armpits, and there is no pressure being put on me. As gentle as a babies smile, I land on my bed. Only to be staring at such a marvel.

“Close your eyes.”

Oh fuck, here it comes. He’s gonna kill me, I know it. I’m sorry God, I am. I didn’t mean to steal that money. I didn’t mean to masturbate so much. I really didn’t mean to say that bad stuff about John. Please, I want to live in Heaven. Please!

And before his hand touched my head, an essence of tranquility spread across my body.

His hand. His smooth fingertips, that displayed an eon of knowledge, touched the fibers on my forehead. I remembered just then that I had to close my eyes. I didn’t want to see what was about to happen.

“Open.”

Heaven. I think so at least. But where are all the people. Where’s my grandma!? If she isn’t here I don’t know how I’m going to live. I love her, and I want to be with her. I can’t, I can’t do it. I love my grandma, I want to see her now.

“This isn’t Heaven. Don’t worry. Your grandmother is safely resting in Heaven. She is an angel now. She is watching over your family.”

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