"When tempted, no one should say "God is tempting me." For God cannot be tempted by evil, nor does He tempt anyone; but each person is tempted when they are dragged away by their own evil desire and enticed. Then, after desire has conceived, it give...
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"If the Spirit of Him who raised Jesus from the dead dwells in you, he who raised Christ Jesus from the dead will also give life to your mortal bodies through his Spirit who dwells in you." - Romans 8:11
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I silently watched his troubled face, my chest ladened by a deep sorrow. Never before had I listened to someone pour out their heart to me as he did right then. His facial features looked heavy and distressed as he would zone out every now and then, the deeper he got into the story. We sat on the very last step of the staircase on which I fell not too many days prior. The lighting was dim and yellow-ish, merely illuminating the outline of his face from behind. He held my hands in his, most likely for some sense of security and support while he walked me through his distant past. His tone was low and faint, barely making out the meaning of his words, this making me pay full attention to what he had to say.
"I felt anxious and confused to be in that woman's presence..."
"Was the queen Esther?"
He finally looked at me, partially outraged by my question.
"No, of course not! The queen's name was Victoria. I'll get to that part soon."
He spared me one last glance before his gaze was fixated back into the ground, reminiscing about his remote memories. But he couldn't continue. His hair fell to the side of his face and he suddenly looked as if he was going to pass out.
"Bill, wake up!" I instantly jolted up from my seat. I pushed his hair back and put my hand on his back to prevent him from falling backwards.
"You're bleeding?!"
"I'm fine, just sit down-"
He pushed my hand away and turned his head away from me as an attempt to hide himself. I slowly sat back down, my eyes never leaving his hidden face. My hand leisurely traveled to meet the side of his face, turning him to face me again. Streams of crimson red blood ran from his eyes as my face formed into a frown.
"Why are your eyes bleeding...? Is this how you... cry?"
He stared at me with his gleaming eyes, merely tracing the perimeter of my face. He struggled to nod a 'yes' in response. I couldn't help but hesitantly swipe my index finger along his dark red tear, trying not to trigger any other emotion in him. I subtracted my hand from him. I lifted my finger up and let the light hit the foreign liquid. The best word to describe it would be blood-like. But far from what runs in the veins of a living God-made being. It was a forgery, at best. The consistency was dense and the colour was almost black.
