I asked for paper, I asked for a writing utensil, and I was given both. I’m sure the person who brought me to this room filled with looming shadows, would love to read what I write. Maybe they’ll get the chance. Then again, probably not.
My nights dwindle ever closer to that final evening when my body shall simply give out and return to the dust that all are meant to become. I’ve known this since before my return, and the only thought that enters my mind is why was it allowed to happen?
I can honestly say I believed in God during those days I walked in the sun. Later, I lost that faith and believed only in the antediluvians. But at the very point Joshua blew fire into my mouth, down my throat…At that point I felt the very fires of hell. And my soul cried out to God, begging for forgiveness. Why was I forgiven and allowed into the land where no one knows pain? I have no idea, but I am more than thankful for that. Then again, maybe not. Maybe that time was more of a taunt then anything else…
If God were so powerful, so Almighty, why, for heavens sake, would ‘He’ let me be brought back? Why would ‘He,’ the all knowing, let me return when ‘He’ knew what awaited me? What I know only too well now.
I can only think of one of two reasons…
One: ‘He’ isn’t as powerful as people claim.
Two: God doesn’t care…
How can someone even consider caring for a God who can't even protect His people? I have tried, oh have I tried to keep my faith. But I keep coming to the same conclusion. Why should I bother when 'He' doesn't seem to care about me?
There will be no heaven for me when my body gives out. I know this, for I hold all the sins from before, plus all those I have created since being back. But still, my heart cries out, wondering why have I been cast aside? And at the same time, I spit in the Creator's face, for making things the way they are. Yet, I'm also filled with doubt, and rage against myself for even bothering to believe in such a thing as a Forgiving God.
But, to tell the truth, the only reason I wanted to return was to try and save Joshua from himself. To free his soul, like mine had been freed. Was I so wrong in that attempt? Was I so naive as to believe I'm strong enough to defy the very devil that lurks inside us all? Yes, I was.
Maybe my seemingly innocent idea hasn't gone according to plan, at least mine...but if this is for some greater good (or joke)...my heart wants nothing more then to shove this 'good' back in the face of whoever thinks this as good! Am I some Judas to be cast away for some greater purpose? No one has the right to choose my fate! No person, no lover, no God!
Maybe I should quiet myself, continue on the way I have, try and do right and wait for that night when I'll cease to be...but my heart speaks otherwise. I want to live, I want to be with Joshua...and the truth is...I'd give everything up for that. Everything. To be at his side once more...but I'm too good for that, and doubt seriously that I'd be capable of being as evil and cruel as him....
But now, my captor returns...and I must once more burden her with stories I'm no longer sure I care about...
