ESCAPE

Chapter 6A

"Gotham city will burn and there is nothing you can do about it."

"I'd rather die than let you destroy innocent lives Joker."

I laid down on the couch as I watched the colorful animation on the television. I watched as The Joker was knocked out by a batarang thrown by The Batman. I admired Batman, I admired his commitment and dedication to ensuring the safety of the people from destruction. I envied the peace they enjoyed, having their own personal Batman who was always there in their time of need. It was kind of like how God watched over his people, but no doubt even Batman was more efficient than God. God must had been asleep when my home was invaded, but Batman would never sleep. He would always lurk in the shadows like a lion in the bushes waiting for criminals to devour.

This past week had been hell and arguing with Father two days ago when he tried to talk to me about God did not help make it any better. He had me to never lose faith, saying everything happens for a reason.

'Nonsense!' I shouted, 'It is either there is no God or he just doesn't care what happens to me.'

'No son, don't talk like that.'

'I will.' I retorted, 'Where was he when my father, when my mother's brain were splattered on the wall? When they were burnt alive, where was he?'

I quickly got up and angrily left the sitting room and headed straight for my room, banging the door right behind me.

That was no way to behave around a priest. On a normal day, the punishment would be severe but not not so much now. Apparently losing your parents is a good way to get away with a lot of things. There had been nothing but silence between us since then, at the moment though I really felt the need to talk to him.

He came in the sitting room a few minutes ago wearing a blue T-shirt, walked around like he was looking for something, then he eyed the clock, whispered something to himself and left the room. I pretended not to notice him, casting my gaze on the television and smiling to show my interest in the cartoon. A few minutes later he reappeared in his fine white carefully ironed cassock, with a rosary in one hand. He walked slowly in his black leather Balle shoe with an unsure carriage. He took a few steps towards me then stopped to take a seat on a stool by the couch. He slowly rubbed his hands on his thighs as he said my name.

'Alex.'

I turned slowly to look at him as the heat in my groins increased with the sound of his voice.

'I know it's hard for you right now, especially because today is the funeral. But I just want you to know that things will get better and everything happens for a reason. I'm time all will be fine for time heals all wounds.'

I quickly returned to my former position, and concentrated even more on the TV like a two year old whose favorite cartoon was on. He briefly placed his hands on my shoulder then got up and headed outside. I scratched my nose as I watched him walk away. His carriage was different now, it was faster and confident. He assumed a priestly kind of walk in no time and soon he was out of the house.

It was almost a custom for Wole to come to the sitting room once Father Patrick left the house. Usually to watch his favorite music channel or sports. I turned my head to the hallway waiting for his arrival, but he didn't show this time. I turned my head back to the television but it was just noise and distraction to me, even the amazing dialogue of hero and villain battling for life and death made no sense to me. I picked up the remote and turned it off.

Silence.

Again I was left in the solitude of my thoughts, solitary in sorrow and demise. Sadness came upon me like a sudden wind on a sunny day. I tried as hard as I could to picture a happy family, like the one I saw two weeks back, but it just wasn't there. My last hopes were burned along with my parents and I still could not pay my respects.