52
I’m so sorry, Lord. I’m so, so sorry. What was I thinking? What did I do? Why am I doing this? I just keep making mistake after mistake.
I turn onto the street, heading for my apartment. When I pull up to the building, I’m walking with my head down, fumbling blindly with my keys, and I plow right into someone.
“Ow!” a woman cries out.
“Sorry,” I say, barely looking at the woman, probably one of the tenants' girlfriends. Then I head to my door upstairs, go in, and immediately start the cleansing process of my spirit.
I collapse to my knees, bowing prostrate on the floor, praising God for His mercy and begging for His forgiveness.
Two hours of this. Two straight hours of prayer, yet I still feel the grime on my soul. If I’m going to stay around Erica, I have to work twice as hard. The worst part is feeling like I’ve lost all my progress, like I’m starting from scratch.
But it’s necessary, because Erica’s soul is worth saving. And… I… I like her company. Her company requires me to be stronger spiritually, though. And becoming stronger spiritually will please You, Father God. So… it’s not all bad. It makes sense.
And with that in mind, just like that, I start to feel better.
I settle into bed for the night, pulling the heavy covers over me. I’d just finished reading and studying my Bible, and I can feel my spirit being reinvigorated by the Word. As the room goes quiet, my thoughts drift toward Erica.
I keep seeing her standing there, asking if I am okay; the memory of how concerned she looked for me sticks in my mind.
I didn't want her to see me like that.
Drifting to thoughts of her face, I realize that now that I feel clean, at least for the most part in my spirit, I can see her tomorrow.
I want to stay friends with her because if she can influence me in this way, then it only stands to reason that there's a part of me that will influence her over time.
Suddenly, a sound so loud it chills my bones shatters the silence. My eyes fly open, and I realize I was sleeping.
But what made that noise? I hear it again… a deep, guttural roll of thunder followed by flashes of lightning strobing through my window.
Oh no.
A tornado?
No. No, this can't be happening.
Another clap of thunder shakes the walls. I am fully awake now, unable to stop the fear clawing at my chest. I look through the window and see the trees outside bending nearly double under the force of the wind. My heart thumps against my ribs.
Erica.
The only thing I can think about is finding her. She shouldn't be alone. If the tornado comes back, we can survive together.
Throwing on a pair of my gym shorts and a t-shirt, I flinch when the thunder claps again and quickly grab my keys.
Stepping outside, the sky is a bruised, sickly purple that freezes me in my tracks.
Clouds swirl violently with every flash of lightning, and for a long second, my legs just won't move. I’m shaking and stuck, standing there while the rain begins to pelt down.
A strange sound, like pins or marbles hitting the pavement, draws my eyes to the ground.
Little white balls of hail are bouncing off the asphalt.
A metallic jingling reaches my ears, and looking down, I realize it’s the car keys; my hand is shaking that hard.
Another explosion of angry thunder finally breaks the trance.
I head for the truck, struggling to even slide the key into the lock because of the terror.
The truck peels out of the parking lot and tears down the back roads where branches are snapping in the gale.
Main Street feels slightly less violent.
I pull into the lot right beside Erica’s car, not even caring that the truck is slanted across the lines.
The front door to her building is, thank God, unlocked.
I take the stairs two at a time, fumbling once on a step before reaching the top.
Turning left, I begin hammering on Erica’s door.
A thunderous crack splits the air again.
“Erica!!” I shout, hammering on the door with everything I have.
I call her name again like three more times. The door flies open, and I immediately rush in.
“King?” she asks, her face looking every bit as wild and shaken as mine.
Acting on pure instinct, I seize her hand and bolt for the bathroom.
After pulling her inside, I lunge back into the bedroom to snatch the tangled comforter off her bed and scramble back to the tub.
I kick the door shut and dive into the basin, drawing her in with me.
I press my back against the cold inner wall of the bathtub and pull Erica tight against my side, her small body trembling, arms folded against me as she huddles into my chest.
I hold her tight, breathing hard, as we hear the lightning happening way too frequently outside. I put the comforter over both of us, shielding us.
“Is it a tornado?” she asks, crying in fear.
“I don't know. Did you hear the siren? I don't hear a siren. It just…” I don't know what else to say.
“I'm here,” I tell her. “There's nothing to be scared of.”
Closing my eyes for a heartbeat, I pray. “God, please protect us right now. Keep us safe in this storm. Cover this building and everyone in it with Your hand. We trust You, Lord. In Jesus’ name.”
A violent thud slams against the side of the building, or at least, that’s how it sounds. Erica and I both flinch, and I pull her even tighter against my chest.