Revelation

Chapter 1: Juliette

Flames licked my skin, leaving blisters and open wounds on exposed flesh. The scent of smoke and burning flesh filled the air. The sound of screams and laughs rang in my head. The screams from those who were sent here and the laughs from those who lived here. My jaw clenched, preventing me from screaming out in pain.

How was it that a devout Christian who studied the word of God was sent here? How was it that someone who taught others the word was not in Heaven herself? How was it that someone who accepted Jesus Christ as her Lord and saviour and sought salvation was in Hell instead of Heaven? How was it that someone who repented their sins was not in the book of life? None of it made any sense to me.

That is my situation. I grew up with my father being a pastor of a small church. He taught me the word of God since I was born. We lived in a community my parents thought was a born again Christian community. However, it was full of families of the Catholic religion. There was only one other born again Christian family. A couple around my parents' age and a boy about mine. They came to church at our house because we were unable to afford a building to rent. Well, that and the fact that our house was enough to hold six people... four people and occasionally six.

The couple became sick quite easily. They were often bedridden with some type of illness. Their son, however, came to Church every Sunday and the midweek service on Wednesdays. He typically came just as the service started and left as soon as it was over in order to take care of his parents. He had to work two jobs to be able to support the three of them. I pitted him more than anything. Since we were the same age and the only children at church, we became good friends fast. People often thought we were dating, but our relationship was completely platonic.

I was snapped out of my thoughts when an ear-splitting scream echoed in my ear. I glanced over and saw someone completely burned, screaming. He must have been here longer than I since he was completely burned. That got me thinking. How long have I been here? One hour? Two? A day? A year? A century? Millennium? There was no time here and every second felt like an eternity. For all I knew, I could have been there five minutes.

It was funny. I remembered everything perfectly, so that was why I felt like I had not been here long. However, that made me think it was longer and my memory was messing with me. When I stood at the gates of Heaven, I waited for them to call my name. I was ready for this. It was what I had been waiting for my entire life. Eternal life. It was going to be, as cliché as it sounds, Heaven.

So, when I was at the White Throne of Judgement and they said my name was not in the Book of Life, my entire demeanor fell. How was that possible? I practised everything I was able to in the Bible. Like every human, I was a sinner, but I often repented when I sinned. I prayed every night, praying for others. I loved people more than myself. I loved those who sinned, but hated the sins they committed. I never condemned them, never told them they were going to Hell. I just prayed for them. I respected them. I acted kindly toward them.

I accepted Jesus as my personal Lord and Saviour. I accepted him and asked the Holy Ghost into my life. I asked to be led. I accepted that I sinned, and asked for guidance. What more was I to do? There was nothing else I could do. I did everything I had been taught. What more did he want from me? I had no idea. I did everything.

I remembered the day I died so vividly, I believed that I had only been dead for a couple minutes. I let the memory wash over me and let it replay itself. I let it make me remember everything that had happened that day.

I was wearing a black and white dress. The top was black until my waist. From there down, it was white and flowing. I wore black strappy heels with it and my cross necklace. My hair was done in a Dutch braid that wrapped around my head. It was the first Sunday of the month, communion.