In Massachusetts, only thirty minutes from Alewife
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The sound of the paramedics talking and the red and blue lights still passing the curtains was a nice exchange from the thoughts I had on my mind before.
Thoughts that should be just between me and God. For Him to judge.
But now they were between me, God, and her.
She feels like God somehow. The salvation I should look for. The idea of something perfect, cut out to look like us but be so much better.
When she asked me what was on my mind, I told her my truth. I told her what I was too scared to admit in confession.
I scared her. She stopped answering my texts and I thought I had managed to drift away from the one person who I finally believed I could be myself with, whoever I was. But then she called me. She called me one, two, three, seven times while I prayed for my own soul to be still able to be saved.
When I was done, the knocks echoed through the house. That's when I realized that I could have done it.
God had never sent me angels, but she sent people to save me.
'thank you' I texted her when everyone was done fussing over me and I was able to breathe again.
'always. i hope u know u'll be alright one day'
And for a second (before my parents walked into the room for a talk and I looked at the cross above my bed and begged that He would put aside what He knew and help me for once) I believed.
Eighth grade was never that tight
YOU ARE READING
Immunity
Romansa》2. protection or exemption from something, especially an obligation or penalty. 《 After finally feeling free from her past, a college girl reenconters a friend from her past. Together, they fall into the rabbit hole of what they were and what they...
