The Wrath of Jeremy (46 page)

“Doctor, I don’t know if I’m sure about
this,” the young woman cried out, yearning to listen to her
teardrops.

“Well, Melissa, it’s your decision,” said the
doctor while the boyfriend kissed her on the forehead.

Melissa, with a past of virtue, kindness and
a magnanimous, merciful soul, gaped at the doctor and her
boyfriend, longing to lead a loving life, but not coveting the
burden of a child at such a young age. Her thoughts scuffled,
pondering the good and the vile, abruptly assembling her verdict.
“Alright, yeah, I’ll go through with it,” said Melissa; the doctor
proceeded to go up her gown.

She lay frozen and motionless on the cold
table of silver-like metal that was bitter to her clammy flesh, and
closed her eyes, acting as if this was a nightmare, and when her
eyes opened the lurid nightmare would have concluded. Thoughts and
flashbacks of her younger days in the single digits scuttled
through her mentality, recalling the moment she picked up her first
dolly and said to herself that she couldn’t wait till she had her
first baby. And now, frozen in time of her memories, she lay in
reality, waiting to suppress the longed-for answer to her lonely
prayer and hold them off for another time of convenience.

“We’re almost done, Melissa, just a few more
seconds.” Melissa’s confused eyes cried out more tears and her eyes
listened intuitively to the doctor’s words of time. Sharp tears
fell, decisions of morality circled high in her mind, but at that
moment, the door to the room opened. The doctor heard the door
open, removed his hand from up her gown and turned around. He
yelled, “Oh my God!” Four angels, with colors of red and white
mixed into their light, walked into the office and grabbed the
doctor. “Oh my God,” the doctor repeated, witnessing the angels
morphing into skeleton faces, watching their angelic flesh melting
off of their images to reveal black bone.

“Thy Father gave you a gift to help people,
not to destroy lives within them!” an angel screeched to the
doctor. “But only He can judge you,” the angel added, grabbing him
and flying out of the room’s window. It flew through the glass of
the window, shattering and shredding it into a million pieces that
fell on the boyfriend and cut his face.

The second angel ran up to the boyfriend of
bewilderment, clutched him by the throat and bellowed, “You are
supposed to love the life you created, not watch it being ended and
not do anything about it!” The angel picked up the boyfriend by his
neck. “But only He can judge you,” the angel added, flying out the
window while holding him, with the young girl hearing his screams
as he vanished into the black clouds of rage.

Melissa’s frightened body stood there while
the two angels that were left stared at her with melancholy in
their bright metaphoric images. She then noticed teardrops falling
out from their angelic eyes of luminosity, fearing them and not
knowing why they were crying or why they were there in the first
place.

Another angel, younger and short, looking
like a child of light, stood in silence and watched Melissa. “What
gives you the right to pass judgment on a life? Only God passes
judgment,” the young angel said as Melissa’s tears fell to the
ground with fury in their speed.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know,” cried
Melissa.

“You think that by following man’s law, it is
the right one? ‘Thou shall not kill’ is the only law that you shall
follow,” the young angel cried as its hand went up her gown and
grabbed the fetus from within her. Melissa screamed, and tormenting
pain ran through her bones, feeling the baby from within her being
dragged out by the angel’s hand. “This is what you were going to
destroy, all for convenience,” the angel yelled, holding the small
baby as it cried and kicked. “I was supposed to guard her from
harm, from those who want to hurt. I didn’t know I had to protect
her from you!” The small angel, caressing the young infant with its
warm hands, flew out of the window with the baby while Melissa
stayed behind and watched them, vanishing into the clouds.

“I’m so sorry, please forgive me,” Melissa
cried. The angel who was left began stroking her short, brown hair,
like a mother to a daughter, crying with her, absorbing her
pain.

“It is too late for forgiveness, Melissa, I’m
sorry. Only He can judge you now.” After the angel’s words ended,
Melissa hearing them in a soothing tone, the angel picked her up
gently and flew out of the window with her. They soared through the
skies, Melissa being on its back of light, and the thoughts of
judgment racing through her mind, being in shock about her baby, in
disarray about this flight of wonder.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

H
er eyes gazed in
torment and torture, altering her perception and forcing her eyes
to scrutinize up and down the confined hospital room’s white walls,
thinking about memories that came from the abyss of her soul.
Jeremy’s mother, concentrating still on the walls of the hospital
room, moved her eyes toward her husband, crying to his vision. All
he could do was cry back and kiss her tenderly on the forehead as
they sat in a room along with Michael and Gabriel’s mother and
David’s parents. “My son is not crazy, and neither am I!” Jeremy’s
mother screamed out as soon as she saw the doctor approaching her
in a fast manner.

“If you yell one more time, Mrs. Daven, then
I’m going to be forced to give you a shot,” the doctor said. He
held up a syringe, teasing her eyes with his anger-filled
clutch.

Bruises, wounds, blood and sweat hung from
the parents’ bodies and faces, depicting maltreatment and abuse
from the doctors, showing their torture that hung from their
terrified eyes. Jeremy’s father saw the syringe as well, but knew
that, if he defended his wife, it would mean more cruelty for them
all. They all gazed at the syringe and thought about the days and
nights they sat in this hellish room, treated like lunatics and
criminals, as if they didn’t have a soul at all. But through their
scares, their horror of more agony, this moment Jeremy’s father
wasn’t going to take anymore.

Jeremy’s father gawked at the doctor’s
sinister smile, greenish brown teeth and shouted, “Don’t treat us
like we’re children, we’re not!” The doctor grabbed him and stuck
the syringe needle in his arm and each parent just stared at the
chaos, being afraid to do anything about it.

“Why are you doing this to us?” Jeremy’s
mother cried out. Seeing that the doctor was being occupied by
giving Mr. Daven a shot, David’s father got up from his seat and
punched the doctor in the face. He wanted to punch him again, but
David’s father was too weak, too fatigued to send another blow to
him.

“The reason why we are doing this is because
all of you are suffering from a mental sickness. Also, if you ever
punch me again, I will make sure that you never get out of this
institution,” the doctor shouted, wiping the blood away from his
mouth.

“We aren’t suffering from a sickness, our
boys are telling the truth,” yelled David’s mother before she
turned to the window in the room with thick, black bars on its
frame.

“Sure your boys are telling the truth,” the
doctor condescendingly said, running his wrinkly fingers through
his gray hair.

David’s mother kept on looking out the
window, seeing the reflection of her husband’s eyes; they showed
lethargy and drowsiness to them. The medicine in the syringe kicked
in already, and all the mother could do was stare at her husband’s
reflection, crying for a miracle to come, to be received, waiting
for her prayer to be answered. She gazed out the window, and stared
at the silhouette of the doctor, and saw his eyes peering at
everyone in the room, like he was a hunter, searching out his prey.
His eyes came to hers, and his eyes gaped at her reflection,
pointing his smirk toward her direction, teasing her fears with his
sinister grin. She didn’t know what he was going to do, but her
imagination took hold of her as she remembered different ways he
tortured them in the near past.

Still staring out the window, she saw the
doctor walking over to the corner of the room and he picked up a
wooden club that was covered with dried blood from past beatings
that were done in secrecy. He walked over to her, and held the club
up in the air, getting ready to swing at her back. She still didn’t
turn around: all she could do was pray and hope. Yet, being so used
to the abuse, Jeremy’s mother knew that if a miracle didn’t come
this time, like before and over and over again, that he would only
hit her three times, and then she would fall to the ground and wake
up in the morning. This cycle she was accustomed to, yet tonight
she prayed fiercely for the club to never reach her body again.
Suddenly, as the doctor swung hard toward her back, Jeremy’s mother
began to grin. Gaping out the window, she said in a happy fashion,
“You see, I told you they and we were telling the truth!”

Before the doctor could hit her, he stopped
and followed her finger as she pointed toward the window; everyone
looked out at it with amazement. They saw angels flying about and
frolicking in the skies, picking up people from the ground and
streets of Kansas City.

“What the hell is going on?” the doctor asked
in rage. The window to the room shattered into a million pieces and
six angels flew in, yet Jeremy’s mother still smiled, knowing she
would be saved, knowing that her prayers were answered. She closed
her eyes with a grin, and the last thing she saw was one of the
angels grabbing the club from the doctor and whacking him over the
head with it.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

T
he skies shined a
shade of dark blue, an illumination hidden behind its massive
vagueness, mixed into the murky clouds that gave a breathtaking
smell to the newly birthed raindrops that sashayed to the ground.
People began to appear by the billions, with the angels placing
each of the people they were assigned to catch down on the ground
and flying up into the skies to await God’s arrival. They were
afraid, timid, but each of them knew that this was judgment night.
Jeremy, Michael, David and Gabriel stared at each other in their
circular chaos, gazing at each of the souls that watched them in
fear, knowing now that they were the Wrath Deliverers.

“Alright, let’s open the gates,” David said;
he looked at the Kerchief. “We have to read this all together, you
got it?” he asked. They all nodded their nervous heads. They read
the words to themselves from the Kerchief and then looked up at the
sky. Yet, Jeremy scanned his eyes toward Sam’s image, seeing her
eyes showing a bit a terror to their glossy color. “Alright, let’s
do this!” David yelled out. They stuck their heads toward the skies
above and Jeremy followed.

“The lands have been washed away, Father. I
allow my creator to step his feet on this corrupted land; free it,”
they said out loud together. The sky lit up with a bright yellow
and purple radiance, a color of brightness that was so beautiful
that it brought fear to the people as well as to the boys. The boys
screamed as the light came closer to the earth, so terrifying that
it brought tears to their flesh and sweat to their perception. “We
open the gates, Lord!” they screamed out before they began feeling
a sharp pain in their backs. They yelled with throbbing to their
flesh, feeling wings growing out from each of their backs, breaking
through their flesh with the blood pouring down their spines.
Jeremy turned his head to look over his shoulders and saw his own
wings being formed.

Sam watched in awe, in a breathless glare,
breathing heavily toward this sight; Sam said, “Oh my God, they are
angels!”

Their wings finished growing and vigorously
the light in the sky formed a black hole in the center of it, a
revolving opening that spun faster than a cyclone. The boys looked
closer at the black hole directly over them, through the blustery
weather and rain, and the colors of bright peach-white feet were
seen, sticking out through the gap; the feet were as big as several
three-hundred-year-old oak trees put together.

Sam’s eyes searched the scattered skies in
wonder and fear; she screamed to the boys, “Those are God’s feet,
he’s stepping through the gate!”

A massive suction took hold of the land, yet
only the boys felt its titanic power. The circular hole of
blackness grew faster and larger and the boys started to levitate
in the air, perceiving God’s feet slowly stepping down closer to
the earth. Angels flew, screams were heard, tears were shed, and
the darkness laughed out its sinister giggle toward their tormented
eyes. Louder and faster the fury started to get, and Jeremy, still
watching the Lord’s feet coming closer to the earth, slowly
squeezed a tear from his left eye. Jeremy didn’t want this to
happen.

The boys looked at each other; David said,
“Alright, let’s finish the last part to the eighth sign. After
that, Father shall step his feet on the earth!”

The boys looked back up at the sky through
the angry rain and tortured skies. They yelled out simultaneously,
“I shall allow judgment to be passed by thee. Open the gates to
Heaven, as well as Hell, and allow the souls to go where they
belong!”

The Dead Sea, being the only sea that still
contained water, commenced to bubble, and smoke slowly formed out
of it. Sam turned around to face the sea and her eyes caught the
sight of serpents, large and small, swimming in it. She knew what
it was from her recollection of her younger years in Bible school.
“The Lake of Fire,” Sam whispered in awe. She turned back toward
the boys who now were flying or levitating higher in the sky, and
saw that the Lord’s feet stopped coming toward the earth. She saw
Jeremy’s facial reaction to this sight, expressing bewilderment and
elusive confusion.