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My Gift.
Topic Started: Dec 6 2016, 04:25 PM (20 Views)
GOD
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”Why do you run from me, my children?”

You feel a rush as your heart begins to beat faster and faster, the old woman who you loved and adored sat silently in the living room as you peered through the railings on the stairs, completely unaware that you were up past your bed time.

”I did not come here to cause you pain…”

“I did not come here for war…”

“My goal is not to bloody and broken…”

“It is to free you from the chains that bind…”

“To see you spread your wings and fly…”

“So many of you live with your heads buried…”

“Blind to the horrors of the world…”

“Content to live life as it is…”

“Instead of making it what it could be…”

“That is what I offer you…”

“Freedom…”


She hums to herself, an old tune, one she would sing to you before bed in your more formative years, it brought a smile to your face and a tear to your eye.

Slowly you crept down the stairs, careful to avoid the spots that would creak for you know them well and still the old woman sat there, a curious smile on her own voice when a noise caught the both of you off guard.

There was a knock at the door.


”You do not embrace the freedom I offer…”

“You avoid the sweet release…”

“Choosing instead to run…”

“As if you could ever hide from me…”

“Or my all seeing eye…”

“There is no escape from my love…”

“From my presence…”

“There is nowhere you can go that I will not find you…”

“You should not fear my love…”

“You should not fear me…”

“I am not the devil I am made out to be…”

“I do not play the part of a psychopath…”

“Or of a blood thirsty animal…”

“I am simply God.”

“No more…”

“No less…”

“And it is my desire to see all of you stand with me in paradise…”


The door opens, no invite necessary as the old woman stands eagerly from her chair, excited that her guest has finally arrived. You freeze in your tracks still huddled down peering through the gaps in the railing as several large dark hooded figures come through the hall way and surround your sweet old mother.

”I feel sorrow for the souls of Redemption…”

“You have been trained like battered animals…”

“To expect torture…”

“To accept fear…”

“To live as subjects…”

“As opposed to kings and queens of your own life…”

“The society you find yourselves in…”

“Dictates your existence…”

“And you happily play along…”

“Do you not my son…”

“My sweet John Doe?”


Curious as to why these people are here you decide to creep closer but your steps are no longer planned and the board beneath your foot creaks loudly as the hooded figures all turn to face you, a black void where you expect eyes, a nose and mouth, you feel their ghostly visages ripping away at your soul.

”Born a street urchin…”

“Content to live as a street urchin…”

“You have the whole of creation in your hands…”

“Moldable…”

“Pliable…”

“With your strength you could make the world anything…”

“Instead you make it nothing…”

“Not better…”

“Not worse…”

“Your existence on this world has been to this point…”

“Entirely inconsequential…”

“Choosing to fight with your hands as you always have…”

“But never really fighting for anything…”

“Directionless you float through this life…”

“One fight to the next…”

“With no destination in sight…”

“You are capable of so much more…”

“Your soul burns so bright…”

“Yet you slowly kill the flame…”

“Using words to threaten those you face…”

“Using fists to back it up…”

“You snuff out the gift I have given you…”


A cold pale hand grips you by the shoulder, its grip feels like a steel bear trap against your flesh as nails dig in like teeth. You turn to face the one who holds you and at first all you see are the empty black eyes of your God, of your father…

I pull you from your perch and drag you helpless in my arms to where you mother waits with my loyal followers, with my family.

You struggle and this saddens me, your fear disappoints me, all I want is for you to see how happy we can be and how loved you truly are.


”Your gift my son…”

“My John Doe…”

“Is the love that emanates from you…”

“This world cannot help but be enchanted by you…”

“Not just for your size…”

“But for what they see inside of you…”

“You remind them of themselves…”

“Of what they could do if only they had your resolve…”

“You waste this gift…”

“Pretending to be something you are not…”

“Playing the part of a monster for the camera…”

“But we all know the truth…”

“You only want to be loved…”

“As you love…”

“Be cared for…”

“As you care…”

“And so I offer you the chance, my son…”


From the chair your mother once sat in you watch as I take her wrinkled hand in mine. This woman you love and loves you, this woman who raised you to be the person you are, the proud human being you’ve become stands with me side by side.

A loyal follower.

You feel yourself start to panic so hands hold you down as your mother takes a knee before me. She accepts me as her God, her Lord and Savior, the one who will bring peace to your broken family and give you the gift of a life you never had.

With her mouth open as wide as her heart she accepts my gift in front of you. Your screams are loud, guttural and pointless.


”I offer you a gift…”

“Freedom from your meandering existence…”

“A purpose in this life…”

“I offer you the chance to stand with me in paradise…”

“Or continue down your path of selfish pride…”

“One I promise you will lead straight to hell…”


She finishes with tears in her eyes and looks to you, beckoning you to join her on her knees before me. At first you fight it but the ones who hold you are to strong and now you find yourself right next to her, mouth forced open, ready to accept my gift…

”Will you be saved?”
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