I’ve been waiting all my life…
Until I got a visit from a stranger at school.
He wore all black and had skin so pale it almost glowed. When he came, he opened the door and just stared at me, frozen like a deer in the headlights, for what seemed like an eternity.
When he finally looked away, I realized I’d stopped breathing. Something about him made him seem ruthless and maybe even sinister, yet a sad regret softened his eyes. He commanded respect with the way he stared, yet you found yourself longing to give it to him anyway.
He whispered to the teacher for a moment, her eyes becoming larger at every word, her head bobbing in a vigorous nod. Looking back at me, he gestured towards the door. “I need to talk to you.”
I should’ve been more cautious, but I felt safe around him. It didn’t take long for me to throw the old ‘Don’t talk to strangers’ rule out the window.
I followed him through the halls, out the door, and across the soccer field, neither of us saying a word, until we reached the bleachers.
He invited me to sit. For some reason, I wasn’t scared, even when he sat beside me and started gently stroking my hair.
I felt like I knew him, like I’d met him before, but I couldn’t remember why he was so familiar. He seemed almost like a supernatural being, because I got the feeling he was as fascinated by me as I was by him. But he couldn‘t possibly be… right?
“I‘ve been waiting all my life to meet you. I‘ve loved you since before you were born, even though we‘re just meeting now.”
I wondered what exactly he was talking about. As he took my hand, his black-nailed fingers interlacing with my hot pink-nailed ones, I concluded I had to be dreaming. I didn’t think anything that weird could happen in real life.
He draped his arm across my shoulders, holding me tighter and tighter, until I thought he’d crush me if he squeezed any harder. I felt like I was melting. My back shivered, my heart leapt, and the next thing I knew I felt something cold on my cheek. I realized I’d laid down on the metal seat, and sat up.
Where’d he gone? He couldn’t have gone far; He’d just been squashing me to death.
I called out for him.
My heart fluttered again, and I remember a thought occurring to me and feeling completely crazy, yet indisputably sure it was true… He was inside of me. We’d somehow melded together, and now he was me and I was him.
Ever since then, everything about me is black. I want to be like him, even though in a sense I am him. I’m not preppy, I don’t cheer, I don’t get tons of attention. But it’s okay, because I have him, and that’s all that matters.
It’s been three months, and I haven’t seen him again.
But he’s there.
I feel him.
as you’ve probably guessed, ‘he’ represents God.
I know the stereotype for a character representing God is usually white and light and all things nice, but I felt like doing something different, and also making him more personable and less stereotype.
hope you enjoyed it! I’d love to hear what you think.