One Christian Shy of Islam

One Christian Shy of Islam

A Story by Dunlack

I'm alone but many surround me. I’ve been left behind to fight off the demons and depression passed down from generations before. At this rate, I must ask myself where will this lead me? I have no answer. I'm just a lost soul full of fear. Maybe I should pray about it...advice given by a Christian man shortly before he took his own life...A loss charged to a preacher whom refused to pray for him. All the man wanted was to be free from the suckering evils of abuse and rape, two habits that relocated his wife and daughter to a victimized state. 


The preacher's refusal was a clear act of judgment placed upon one human being by another. He took action into his own hands, condemning that man just as God would. I'm certain in due time the physical wounds of that wife and child will heal; yet their emotions will remain scarred forever. They will be alone but many will surround them. They will trust no one. The voices of hypocritical Christians singing sweet melodies in their ears will go unheard. Their hands will never come together to point towards the moon and stars again.

 

Meanwhile, across town a young lady has been diagnosed with cancer. This young woman's name is a mystery. Since her diagnosis she's discovered a new found love for Henrietta Lacks. Who am I to say Immortal inspiration of some sort isn't necessary when you can't eat and your chances of survival are slimmer than what you've become? Treatment could help but her shortage of finances yearns for a cure. Unfortunately the only thing Doctors are offering is a comfy pillow and a standard prayer that comes with a template. She just wants to live. Through the lens of man she isn't worthy of such. Once again, another Godly duty incorrectly imitated. So while she dies alone, many will surround her. Up until her last breath she will trust no one. The voices of hypocritical Christians singing sweet melodies in her ear will go unheard. Her hands will never come together to point towards the moon and stars again.

 

Months’ later, attending her funeral was a man with AIDs. He was forced to sit alone. Everyone in attendance had casted him out of their worldly kingdom. They treated him as if he was nothing more than the disease he carried. Before his eyes, those same individuals were giving testimony. So he was alone, while many surrounded him. He trusted no one. The voices of hypocritical Christians singing sweet melodies in his ear went unheard. His hands never came together to point towards the moon and stars again. Eventually he passed on too. So there you have it. Tragedy as my destination if consumed by the selective practices and principles of many...well...you know who they are. I guess I've answered my own question in a subliminal manner…I'll pray for us all.

© 2013 Dunlack


My Review

Would you like to review this Story?
Login | Register




Share This
Email
Facebook
Twitter
Request Read Request
Add to Library My Library
Subscribe Subscribe


Stats

573 Views
Added on August 28, 2013
Last Updated on August 29, 2013

Author

Dunlack
Dunlack

Chicago, IL



About
I'm a young writer from the city of Charlotte, NC with the ambitions of being known world wide for my work. I'm a Graduate of Gardner-Webb University, and will be furthering my education at DePaul Uni.. more..

Writing
New Amsterdam New Amsterdam

A Story by Dunlack


Mozella Mozella

A Story by Dunlack