Praise the LORD
Authoresses Note: There is a meaning behind this
entire story. Putting aside the histrionic scenes, this fic focuses on a part
of my faith, to which, at this extent, consists of nothing much. You need to
use your brain to keep up with what is happening; but it’s pretty much common
sense. A complete AU: so sue my fat British ass. Flames will be enjoyed and
constructive criticism will be beneficial. My writing is really out of form, so give me the CCs ;__;
Email them to me >.< NOW! But only if you’re smart enough to o.O;
Warning/s: Death, slight child abuse, OOCness, possible implications of rape, acute
confliction between ‘good and evil’. Also, you may be affronted if you are a
follower of god, as what I have written may clash with your beliefs. Buwahahaha fucking ha.
*
“I wonder if Mariah fancies Rei!”
“Ewwww! That’s so gross, Tyson!”
“At least I know that I’ll beat you if we battle!”
“You wanna bet? Ha ha!”
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Max!”
*
‘What do you have, Max? What do you have left in this
world?’
“I have enough…enough to endure…”
‘You don’t have
even a shred of poise left. So how can your survive?’
“I…I have memories…”
‘And what are these
reminiscences of? The time you beybladed with your friends?
The time when you thought that you would have your first kiss? Or the time when you lost to destiny and ended up here?’’
Inaudibly murmuring the verse, Max tried to divest of
the dispute within his mind. “To you I call, O LORD my Rock; do not turn a deaf
ear to me.”
‘What memories do
you have, Max?’
“For if you remain silent, I shall be like those--”
‘You don’t have
any, do you?’
“--who have gone down to the pit…”
‘You have nothing.’
A single tear drop slithered down his freckled cheek,
like the unsolicited worm that many knew it to be. “I have…I have nothing…”
‘Ha! And do you
know why?’
“Because…because she forgot I was only a child.”
* * *
“I wonder if Mariah fancies
Rei!”
“Ewwww! That’s so gross, Tyson!”
The two younglings guffawed amongst each other at the
thought-- which, to their candid judgment, was repellent-- of one of their good
friends having a ‘girlfriend’. But at the age of only ten, not much could have
been expected from their infantile behaviour. “Yeah, I know! But don’t tell
Rei, or he isn’t gonna beyblade with me then.”
“At least I know that I’ll beat you if we battle!”
“You wanna bet? Ha ha!”
Progressively, the two made their way down the street;
not caring that time was flying by quite swiftly. In between their
conversations about school and beyblading, they had an irritating itch to take
their friendship to a certain limit in which they would have confronted the
other with their family problems. But they left it as that. The moment was too
precious to spoil; besides, another day was sure
to come.
After Tyson threw his ‘goodbye’s and ‘I’ll see you
tomorrow, Max’s at his friend, he trotted along, now picking up more speed than
before as it was the only thing left to do. Max watched his friend saunter off
into the distance before he made his way into his home.
It was not much of a place that he had lived in. It was
one apartment from two-hundred, his being the one three quarters above the ground.
It was not much of a pretty site, and it was certainly not a place fit for a
child too, but he managed. Max had to. He could not complain to his parents,
for he could not place a burden upon them, well, to his mother he could not—his
father was not much of his concern at most times. His mother had already tried
her best, and her best was what he was satisfied with.
Max’s
mother was always active, wondering through the streets of
His father was not much of a help. His daily routine
involved the consumption of a large amount of liquor, next to making sure that
he was fed at least three times a day. By whom, he did not care. Just as long
as his greed was fulfilled for the day, it was all that he ever cared about.
All that mattered was that the mother and the son were
safe, which they were, though for only a limited amount of time.
He ran up the stairs, too energized to use the
elevator. Turning the wooden knob, not
caring that it was more chipped than the previous week, Max crept into his own
home, just then realising that he was late. He needed to make dinner, which
would have normally been served early in their household. But, much to his
luck, his father had been knocked out on the sofa, making him think that he was
able to get away with it, without a single mark upon his slender body.
After making the dinner, which was but instant pizza, Max
put it into the microwave again, to make sure that it did not go cold, and slowly
went into his room to sleep. There, he hoped to dream sweet dreams.
* * *
“Why don’t you leave me alone?”
‘Because, I need to
make sure that you make the right choice.’
Max chortled, quite sarcastically, however. He was not
to give in that easily. “Do you take me to be that much of an idiot? I’m not going anywhere. I’m staying here…where I belong. And, in the end, it’ll
turn out good for me.”
‘How long have you
been here?’ He raised an eyebrow, suspicious of the question. ‘How long have you been here?’ The
blonde boy did not reply. He did not want to, for he had a theory of where this
was to lead. ‘I guess it’s probably a
long time, eh? And where has that led you? You’re still stuck in
this empty room, waiting and reading and waiting and reading, like the fool
that you are..’
“God takes his time. I can wait long enough for him to
come.”
‘You fool!’ the
voice hissed, sending a sharp snap down Max’s spine. ‘Can’t you see? No one is coming for you! God doesn’t reward all
of his sheep.’
“I know he
will come! I just know it!”
‘We will see. We
will see…’
* * *
Slowly waking from his far
from deep slumber, Max noticed the usual: his parents were arguing about
domestic situations, spitting out harsh profanity whenever it was possible to.
He was used to it, and maybe that was why he refused to pull himself up to
witness more of the quarrel. Every now and then, his father would have slapped
Max’s mother, and it did hurt him. An anchor would have weighed down his heart,
his eyes would have begun to water and his stomach would have twisted itself
into a knot. But he did not have to care. He wanted to sleep.
He told himself that he would have woken up the next
morning to comfort his mother.
* * *
But Max was wrong. He did not
wake up the following morning. In fact, after shutting himself down for another
half an hour, or so, he was woken up again. This time, it was not to the
bellowing and livid words of his parents, but to a soothing melody, being
hummed from beside him. He slowly pushed himself up and leaned himself against
the wall that was behind his bed, and after rubbing his eyes, he realised that
his mother was sitting by him.
“Mom…?” He was ignored. She continued to hum, looking
straight ahead, having locked her focus upon a certain spot on the wall. Even
though it was dark, Max was still able to see the outline of a tear, slithering
down her cheek. “Mom? Why aren’t you asleep?”
A minute or two passed before she replied to his answer.
“I’m…not sleepy.” She gradually turned her son and smiled at him. Max had
gotten used to the dark, so was able to make out her facial expressions. “Do
you know what Dad said to me about us?”
“Mom. Go to sleep…can we talk
about it tomorrow morning?”
“He said that he doesn’t love us. He never has and never
will.”
“Mom…please?”
“He used us because he needed a place to stay…he doesn’t
love us. He hates us.” She turned to look at the wall again, no longer drying
her eyes out. “He hates us, Max…he hates us…”
Biting his lower lip, Max slid down until his back was
rested upon the bed again. He wanted to fall into a never-ending slumber; he
knew that his mother was far from sober and that all she needed was to sleep it
off, so ignoring her would have been the only solution
that he had thought of at that moment. “Goodnight, Mom,” he finally whispered,
allowing his eyelids to weigh themselves.
“Max?”
He sighed to himself; “yeah?”
“Do you trust me, Max?”
“Of course I trust you…”
“Would you trust me with your life?”
“Yeah…I guess.”
She arched an eyebrow. “You ‘guess’?”
Max turned to lie on his side, so that he could look at
his mother, who still did not move her focus away from the wall. “Well, you’re
my mother, I have to trust you. But if we were friends, then I would have
trusted you anyway.”
“I-I’m sorry, Max.”
“For what, Mom?”
“Will you forgive me? Please forgive me, Max. I don’t
mean to do the things that I do…”
He smiled to himself. “I know, Mom. I forgive you.”
She slowly got up and sat at the side of his bed. “Don’t
struggle, Max. Trust me…I’ll help us get out of this. You do trust me, right?”
Frowning, Max nodded. “Yeah…I trust you, Mom.”
“You’ll do anything for me, right?”
“Yes…” hesitated Max.
“Then don’t struggle, darling.” She slowly pulled his
pillow from under his head and picked away any strands of hair that may have
been on it.
<Mom…please don’t…>
Placing it tightly on Max’s face, she whispered to
him. “Don’t struggle, Max.”
<I won’t…>
And Max did not struggle.
“Trust me, Max…”
<I do...>
And Max trusted her.
“I’m doing this for the best…please understand.”
<I understand,
Mom…>
And Max understood. He understood well enough to know
that she was doing it all for the best. But the day that his own mother would
have killed him was a day that he would have never expected. And, now, he laid there, with his mother playing with his hair, who did
not care that she still had a pillow over his face.
“That’s
a good boy, Max. One day, when you grow up, you’ll make me proud…just wait
until mummy finds a good job and then we’ll go somewhere nice, just the two of
us. How about
Leaning in, she kissed her son on the forehead and placed
the pillow, gently, by his side. She stood up, made her way into the living
room, and flicked through channels until she could find something decent to
watch.
* * *
“Let me go…I want to sleep in
peace.”
‘But you won’t be
slumbering in the right place, Max.’
Biting his lower lip, Max gave a long hiatus before he
spoke; “But if I come with you, I’ll never sleep…”
‘Yes, you will..’
“I will? I know your game. My faith in god has shown
me the door to the end of my voyage.”
The voice within his mind chortled menacingly. ‘And you think that you’ll get rid of me
without effort?’
“I have done what is righteous and just; do not leave
me to my oppressors.”
‘You’re a fake!
You’re only crawling to your filthy ‘LORD’
now because you have no one else to turn to!’
“Ensure your servant’s well-being; let not the
arrogant oppress me. And…and…” It ended with a slight whisper. Max slowly
raised his head, wondering why nothing had happened. “Wh…what’s wrong?”
‘…it seems as if
your ‘LORD’ left you, child.’
“My eyes fail, looking for your salvation!” Gathering
all of his energy to read the verses from his
psalm, he began to stumble. Nothing was happening. No one came for him.
No one.
‘Where is your god
now, Max? Where is he?’
“…looking for your righteous
promise!” Still
nothing. With his mouth left open and his fingers at the edge of destruction,
Max’s only words that might have
helped him survive were taken away, making him drop the text, which was within
his hands, letting it fall to the groupd. “No…no…”
‘You cannot depend
upon him, Max. You only have me to turn to now.’
He looked down at the brown text that was now laid by
his feet. As he ran his slender fingers through his dirty-blonde hair, more
tears of the devil began to flow, wiping away every inch of the decorum that
was left within him. “Why didn’t he come? Why didn’t my
father come?!”
‘He doesn’t love
you! No one does, Max!’
“No…why is this happening to me? I haven’t done anything to
deserve this!”
‘Why? Why...?
Because you’re stained.’
“How could have I lost my faith?! I can’t see how it
happened.”
‘How can you have lost your faith if you
did not have it in the first place? Then why would he come for you? You’re simply using him. What kind
of faith is that?’ Max fell onto his
knees, his hands wrapped around the back of his head. He wanted to scream. He
wanted to let out every inch of the nails within his bottled up thoughts with
the power of a single noise. ‘Now, how
many years have you been stuck here? How long have you been a victim in this
emptiness of nothing?’
Slowly
blinking, Max finally replied; “I…lost count after twelve…”
‘Shame. I have never
pitied anyone up until now.’
He
flinched as the words soured his already soured wounds. “Go away,” Max spat
with much odium. “Just go away!”
‘Why?’
“Because you are annoying
me. You don’t belong here! Leave
me alone!”
‘Fine. I’ll leave
you alone…just like you were destined to be.’
And
the devil left. It was as simple as that. Though Max did not have time to
repent, he was conscious of the fact that he had lost his possible chance to
leave the room. Curling himself into a susceptible ball, Max rocked himself
back-to-forth. He was having his ‘never-ending slumber’. All he wanted now was
to wake up and hope that his mother would be there to make him breakfast. Scrambled eggs; that was his favourite.
* * *
Psalm 28
Of David.
To you I call, O LORD my
Rock;
do not turn a deaf ear to me.
For if you remain silent,
I shall be like those who have gone down to the pit.
Hear my cry for mercy
as I call to you for help,
as I lift up my hands
towards your
Ayin
I have done what is righteous
and just;
do not leave me to my oppressors
Ensure your servant’s
well-being;
let not the arrogant oppress me.
My eyes fail, looking for
your salvation,
looking for your righteous
promise.
Deal with your servant
according to your love
and teach me your decrees.
I am your servant; give me
discernment
that I may understand your
statues.
I am no one’s servant. I serve only myself.
