Many Chance Summer

His Healing Hands

     My hands tremble as I stare at the address written in very boyish handwriting on the front of the sealed letter. Penn State. I am petrified. 

     Oh, no. They're probably coming to kill me since they know I told people. Oh, my God, what am I going to do?

     Shit. I can't stop shaking. My vision blurs and my throat closes up.

     "He said that he has never forgiven himself for taking you...and that he and Barry are actually sorry." Jamaal's voice in my head says.

      I can't believe it. Sorry? Sorry?!

     Suddenly, my cell phone rings on my bed. I jump, startled. I look at the envelope. Then at the back of my phone. Then at the envelope again. 

     Oh, God. No.

     I take deep breathes and turn my phone over. I open my eyes and blink several times to clear my vision. Baby, is on the front screen.

    It's like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders. But for some reason, I'm still shaking as I pick up my cell and answer the call.

     "H-hello?"

     "Hey, babe. Uh, are you okay?"

     I sniff the runny boogers back into my nose.

     "Yeah, just...a cold, I think."

     "A cold? It's so fuckin' warm out!" Jamaal laughs at his own joke.

     "Ha ha, very funny. I'll, uh, call you later, okay?"

     "Hey, sorry. Are you sure you're okay? Need me to send somethin'?"

     I shake my head as I look down at the envelope. Will I ever open it?

     "N-no. Petra's taking care of me. I-I gotta go now. Bye."

     "Okay. Love y-"

     I quickly hang up before he hears me crying. My chest is so heavy it's hard to breath and my head pounds. I don't know what to do. I'm terrified. So, so petrified. And for what seems like hours, I just sit on my bed, staring down at the envelope. Images of that night and the days after play through my head like a fucking movie. I feel filthy all over again. So, so dirty. I drop the envelope and take a shower. I scrub my body so hard it's red when I come out. I exfoliate my face so much it stings a little. Under the running faucet, I close my eyes. My body feels light and soon I feel myself moving a little. The running warm water feels so good against my skin. Little by little I feel like I am being pulled down. Lower and lower I go until I cannot stand anymore. 

     But someone calls my name before I go completely out. My heart races and I struggle to open my eyes. 

     "Janaeya..." The voice calls again. And suddenly, all the muscles in my body relax and my heart beat calms. I feel hands running through my hair and my body being wrapped in a towel, then lifted. And for some reason, I cannot open my eyes. I feel as though I've been put on drugs at the hospital and now I'm on cloud nine. The way I feel at this very moment is a harsh contrast to the way I just felt about the letter. 

     "My child. it is not your time. Do not worry. I am with you."

     God? I say in my head. I suddenly do not need to express myself verbally to this person.

     "Yes, Janaeya. Never think I do not hear your prayers or see you suffering. You have been a very good child, and I will bless  you plentiful."

     Oh, my God, I say. Then, sorry.

     "The letter is not what you think. Kevin and Barry have finally listened to the Holy Spirit. They've done a very good thing. And for that, I am proud."

     Proud?! You saw what they did to me, God! How can you say this?

     "Hush now, my child. I love you very, very much. And I am always here with you." He tucks my wet hair behind my ear. His touch is so soft and gentle, like nothing of this Earth. I feel like I'm floating on a cloud. It's a hard feeling to put to words, but I'm calm and at peace. "Read the letter, my child. Read the letter. Read the letter..."

     When I open my eyes, it's dark outside. I am wrapped in my towel on my bed.

     As I remember what happens, a smile spreads across my face and I am filled with so much joy.

     I also realize something. I would've died in the shower. I could've. God saved my life.

     "Thank you, God. Thank you." My eyes fill with tears, but they're not the result of sadness. I am filled with such gratitude I don't know if God really understands how grateful I am to Him.

     I open up the letter, and with a short a prayer of guidance and patience, I read it out loud.