She Must Die

Night

At lights-off time I put the sweet letter from Zoey beneath the mattress and slid in my bed. Tears of satisfaction caught me off-guard like at all times. I didn't even know how many times I had read that letter. Probably a thousand times in a month. But I wasn't getting enough of it. It carried a timeless message. The powerful parts were not plainly written though. They were nicely encoded behind the words for me to feel and cry. She made me feel a man in a way that surprised me. Honestly, I never thought women like her exist. I thought they only exist in movies or literature. She made me take decisions like I was still with them fulltime. She made me have the final word in whatever she did and in my children's lives and education. Then she concluded the letter with a killer paragraph:

My love, it's an understatement for me to say 'I love you.' I don't love you anymore, but I am you. When you think or look at me, never ever see another person. View me as one of your body parts - like your heart, like your lungs. You can't live if I stop functioning, and I definitely cannot live outside you. Your life is mine. My life is yours. I will always, always be there for you, baby. No matter what.

Kisses. Kisses. Kisses.

I wiped tears, sure that her letters were the ones that revitalized my appetite and will to live. They also controlled my blood pressure better than the Lisinopril I took from the clinic. Ulcers, neck and back pain were things of the past for me due to the power of her letters. Katie, the witch, gave me all those ailments, but Zoey's love in the letters took them away.

I raised my head and scanned my cell, disturbed by an odd feeling. It was like there was somebody staring at me, watching my every move. My cell felt haunted. But I ignored that crazy intuition and fear and tried to sleep, but I couldn't. I ended up cogitating about Omar's stupid forgiveness teaching. But I was glad he even shed a few tears when I met him after the class. He couldn't believe the cruelty that brought me to Sing Sing. When I saw him cry I thought he would understand that there was no way I could forgive those people, but he wiped his tears and said, "Brother, I will tirelessly pray for you. The Lord will give you power to forgive those kids and put this thing behind you." There and then I knew Omar was really, really crazy – he was thoroughly brainwashed. I had to keep a big distance from him. There was no any other way.

My cell suddenly became bright. I removed the blanket over my face, thinking they turned the lights on. But the lights were still off. There was a glowing man standing near the door, inside my cell. He shone like lightning. I quickly pulled the blanket. But it couldn't block his brightness from flooding my eyes. I closed them. But even my eyelids couldn't block his brightness either. My eyes saw him as if they were wide open.

The cell became warm like an oven. Rivers of sweat broke on my skin. My heart hammered my chest so strongly. I thought it was over. I thought death had come for me. I cried feeling bad. Feeling bad I would never see my lovely Zoey and my kids ever again. And they would never see me. In my head I could see the four of them on the couch crying, with no one to comfort them. I quickly decided to talk to death and ask him to postpone my turn, but when I opened my mouth to speak I discovered I had no strength left – I couldn't formulate any words with my mouth. I only mimed inside the blankets.

The big, burning man started walking towards my bed. When he walked I almost jumped out of my skin – it was like an army of millions was marching towards me. I cried so helplessly in my bed. As he drew closer even the brightness and heat amplified. I sweated the more. My blankets were drenched already. Then I sensed him standing next to my bed. I imagined his sword already up, ready to pin me on the mattress.

"Diego," he said.

My stomach burned within me and was hard as a stone. I was shocked he even knew my name.

"Diego," he called again, touching my blankets. I wasn't different from a dead man – I couldn't move – I couldn't talk. His hand was hot as a furnace, but somehow it didn't melt my skin and the blankets.

He removed the blanket. There I was exposed - on the bed like a corpse. "Diego, don't be afraid. The Lord, Christ Jesus, sent me to you."

I opened my eyes slowly. It was as if the sun shining in all its power was standing beside my bed. His brightness was impossible for my eyes.

He stretched his hand and touched my eyes. Then I was able to look at him. He was dressed in a super white rob fastened with a belt of gold. His body was made of yellowish-green chrysolite rock. His arms and legs were made of polished bronze. His face shone like lightning. His eyes flamed like huge torches. And his voice was like violent sea waves. When he spoke the entire prison shook.

He stretched his hand again and touched my lips and my stomach. Strength came back to me.

"Diego rise, I must talk to you," he said.

I said, "Yes, my Lord," and I quickly sat up.

"Don't call me Lord. I am also a servant of the Lord like you," he said. "Diego, the glory of the Lord has shined on you. You will have no difficulty in forgiving those who wronged you. Omar's prayer has been answered. From today onwards, serve the Lord with all your strength, all of your soul, and all of your heart. The Lord has anointed you to preach the Good News to the lost in America and beyond. After seven days you will be freed from this prison. When you get home explain this to your wife, because she will be of great help to you as you do the work of the Lord. She is a great woman of the Lord. So start preparing yourself – in seven days you will be out of here." Then he touched my stomach again. My stomach boiled. I thought it would burst.

But I was confused because one of the officers walked past my cell, patrolling, but he couldn't see the brightness. He couldn't see or hear the angel. He couldn't even realize that the whole prison was quaking.

When the angel removed his hand from my stomach I knew I was a different person. I didn't know how, but I knew I was different. Then he disappeared.

The officer walked up the concourse again. That time he stopped. "Why don't you sleep," he asked.

I realized I was still sitting on my bed. Blank. My mind was a formatted hard drive. I said, "Um..I... I'm praying, officer."

He laughed, "You? Praying? Since when?"

I said, "Since now."

He continued laughing, walking up the concourse.

In normal cases I would be furious about the way he snooped in my business and laughed at me like I was an idiot, but somehow I wasn't. There was this powerful measure of peace in my heart. It was so powerful and sweet such that tears of indescribable joy flooded my eyes. I wept for a very long time. For nothing.

Without even thinking about it, I knew I had forgiven Katie and the three boys. In fact, I felt a little embarrassed, because I vividly felt deep love for them. Yes, I loved them. For what? For nothing.

I sighed wishing it was already morning. I couldn't wait to tell Omar that the Jesus he talked about wasn't just a Jewish guy to me anymore. He was my Lord and Savior. I also longed to tell my sweetheart and the kids that in a week's time I would be home, and above all, I finally met Jesus – her prayers had been answered.

I jumped off my bed and danced to the music playing in my heart. It was so sweet and calm.