Andrew's Tears

Chapter 13

{Chapter 13}

1:15 PM

It was silent. Completely and utterly silent. It was dark too. Darker than anything Andrew had ever felt. It was an inky blackness that seemed to hold something darker and scarier than just a normal darkness.

Andrew had wept for what must have been an hour before he forced himself up off of the floor. He was careful not to put weight on the foot that Thomas had shot. He hadn’t realized how tired he was. It was like a weight was tied around his eyelids and threatened to pull them down permanently.

Andrew stumbled around. His foot caught on something-- what it was, Andrew was not sure. He hit the floor; his hands slapped the floor, sending pain up his arms. He sighed a sigh of relief when he noticed that the foot he tripped over was not his injured one. Andrew pushed himself off the ground, squinting in the dark.

When Andrew turned to look at the object that he had tripped on, he picked it up with clammy fingers. It was a paperbound book with a smooth, yet warped cover. At the bottom right corner of the book, the cover was splitting in two.

Feeling something familiar in his fingers brought a sense of comfort to his mind. He sifted through the pages, feeling the smooth paper between his pointer finger and thumb. The book smelled old and musty, like it had been sitting in the cold damp area for years. Andrew held the book up to his eyes, trying to decipher what the cover said.

He caught a bit of small print. He couldn’t decipher exactly what it said. Andrew held the book at his side and hobbled around looking for a light switch. He assumed that there was one, because the room had been flooded with artificial light before Thomas had left so quickly. Andrew ran his hand along the wall, hoping he wouldn’t trip over something again. He also hoped he might find a way out. Quickly, when that thought entered his mind, he pushed it away. If he escaped, Thomas would do something worse to him than he originally had planned.

When his hand rubbed over a switch his heart leapt in his chest. Immediately light flooded the room and darkness was eaten up. For the first time, he noticed that he was in a concrete room, most likely underground. It was not as large as the darkness made it seem. Andrew guessed that it might have been larger if it weren’t so cluttered with items.

Only after the light was on for a few minutes, did Andrew remember the book in his hand. He looked down and was overcome with wonderment. How on Earth could a Bible be in such a place? Wasn’t the Bible something sacred? Shouldn’t it be treated with respect? But here it was, ever-so-slowly disintegrating.

Andrew opened the first page and found a small, half sheet of paper. It was crumpled, but still readable. A note was written in pen, most likely ball point considering how it was written. When Andrew read the note, he gasped.

Dear Andrew,

I don’t know you. Nor do I think I will ever come to. I feel compelled to write this note, because I believe that you need this. I believe that you are in trouble. And the only way to save you is to give you this bible. I don’t know how you will use it. But use it well. Please do not waste this chance that has been given to you. I feel, deep in my heart, that you are thinking, this lady is crazy and I don’t care what she says. Please, just page through this book and find redemption.

I pray that the Lord will set you free. I have left one verse the Lord means for you to read. It is called Romans 8:22. I am praying for you every day, forever and always.

                        Sincerely,

                                    Ariel Clements.