He Loved Me First ✓

He Loved Me First (Epilogue)

Epilogue

*Many Years Later*

People were being killed left and right all over the world, and now it had come to Pennsylvania. There was chaos in the square. Felicity and Alice were home on a visit. Alice was with my parents in the crowd. Felicity and I ran up to the group of people locked up in a cell, the people who would soon be martyred. A man was talking with his wife and two very young children. A guard was standing nearby, supervising their visit. “I would like to volunteer for this man,” I told him.

“Your loss,” he said, shrugging, tossing the man out, and pushing me in.

The man's wife thanked me greatly. The man himself said, “You didn't have to do that. Thank you.”

“You have a family that needs you,” I said.

“Oliver!” Felicity said, noticing a little late what had happened.

“No, don't worry about me, Felicity,” I told her.

“I'm not worrying about you, you idiot! I was supposed to be the martyr! Don't you know how long I've been waiting for this?”

I knew exactly how long she'd been waiting for this, so I said, “No one is stopping you.”

“Then find me someone I can volunteer for,” she said.

A five year old girl was locked in with us. “What is her crime?” I asked a guard.

“She stole a candy bar.”

I knew there was more. All of the people in there had been thrown in because of their faith. Their “crimes” were just cover stories. “Let her go,” I said.

“I can't do that.”

“She's five! You can see how terrified she is! There's a Sister out there willing to take her place, even.”

“Where?” I pointed to Felicity. He said, “Fine,” and made the switch.

“Finally!” she said.

We turned around and looked at who else was locked in this cell. There were two teenaged girls huddled in a corner. They were obviously scared out of their minds. “I'll handle this,” Felicity said. “You go offer confessions.”

“Perfect,” I said, going off to do just that.

By time I got to the girls, Felicity had them excited about their impending martyrdom. “How did you do that?” I asked her.

“I just told them about why I have always longed to be a martyr. What's better than to live and then die for God?” she said.

“Nothing at all,” I said. “You know, you're the only one who hasn't gone to confession yet.”

“What about you?”

“Well, there's nothing I can do about that, can I?” I asked. “But there is something I can do for you.”

“But I can't, Oliver!”

“You're going to pass up confession moments before death because you can't go to me? Felicity, what is there that I don't already know about you?”

“Give me a minute,” she said, taking a step back. I nodded and gave her a little space. She then relented, allowing me to help her, and I was right, nothing she said was anything new to me.

My sister came up to us, and said, “You know how much I want to join you, don't you?”

“I can guess,” I said. “But can you do something for me first?”

“Of course.”

“I want to give Mom and Dad a letter.” I pulled paper and pens out for Felicity and myself. We wrote letters to our families. Alice delivered mine to my parents, and Felicity's to hers. We were ready. Alice pushed her way past the guards, who let in her right away. It was easy to get in, but impossible to get out unless someone volunteered for you.

My dad came up next, leaving my mother. I could see that she was just about devastated. “I would join you, but your mother needs me. Oliver, I'm proud of you.”

No words needed to be said, as he left and went back to my mom.

It was then time. A big bonfire was blazing in front of us. I took my sister's hand and Felicity's and we bravely walked into the fire. As it consumed me, I felt no pain.