Dear Calla,
I remember walking into that corner store, a smile on my face.
It was forced, because what reason did I have to smile?
I'm lonely, and I have no one else.
No ones there for me, not mama, not papa, nor sister, nor brother. I'm alone.
I imagined a life where happiness existed. Where smiles were real. Hm. Guess that was just what it was, my imagination.
Anyway, your eyes saw right through my happy facade. Your eyes saw right through my thick flesh, they saw my heart. I didn't know how, at first.
Everyone else assumed I was a happy camper, and was doing fine. You saw different, and now I see, that God revealed to you how I felt. He showed you, and I had no idea at the time.
The moment you saw me, you rushed over and hugged me. I stood frozen, not understanding what was happening. Then I began to hear the whispers that escaped from your lips, and I understood; you were praying for me.
I tried to squirm out of your grasp, and convince to you that I was fine. You didn't let go, and you did not stop praying. I finally gave up, and let you pray for me.
We eventually moved outside, and you continued to pray for me.
"Pointless." I muttered. It was. I felt like it was pointless for her to pray for me. God wouldn't listen, for He hated me. I knew it. Otherwise I wouldn't feel like this.
You looked me straight in the eye, pausing your prayer. "No, Jeremy. It's not pointless."
"Calla, please just stop. God may love you, but He hates me. I've done too much bad in life. Stop trying to push me."
You'd paused, your blonde hair blowing in the wind. "Jeremy. God does not hate you. Do you know what I used to be?"
I shrugged.
"I used to be a drug addict. I used to bully Christians. I used to use my body for bad. When someone came to me, trying to talk about God, I laughed. But then something happened, the laughter turned into tears."
"That older woman began praying for me, and God began to show her everything I'd ever gone through. I started to cry, and hard. There was no, way anyone could no about those things unless God was real, for I never told anyone but Him."
"Long story short, I was baptized, and saved. Just like you, I thought God hated me! What a lie from the enemy! He loves me, and He loves you. Jeremy Jesus loves--"
I pull out of your grasp, walking away in anger.
"Jeremy wait-"
"I thought we were friends." I cut, turning to face you.
"We are! We--"
"If we were friends, you wouldn't lie to me! God has no love for a filthy sinner like me." I snap.
"Jeremy God will forgive you for it! Stop beating yourself up about it." You say, so suddenly.
My stomach moves uncomfortably. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"You do. It was a car accident, and it wasn't your fault, but the devil has made you think all these years that it was, but it wasn't."
"How do you know about that?"
"God."
"LIES!" I found myself yelling. I turned away, stating at the trees. My body began to shake, and you continued to speak.
