Independence

         "For this we say unto you by the word of the Lord, that we which are alive and remain unto the coming of the Lord shall not prevent them which are asleep.
For the Lord himself shall descend from heaven with a shout, with the voice of the archangel, and with the trump of God: and the dead in Christ shall rise first:
Then we which are alive and remain shall be caught up together with them in the clouds, to meet the Lord in the air: and so shall we ever be with the Lord.
Therefore comfort one another with these words.  " 

         Frank always started the day with the same quote from the bible, from the book of thessalonians.  It was a person warning for the religious man, namely don't screw up or God will leave you on Earth to suffer with the sinners.  In the day and age of internet dating, strip clubs and overwhelming drug use, there was no man more determined than Frank to ensure salvation.  When judgement day arrived, this man knew where he was going.  In plain English, the verse basically says that some day God is coming back to take all the good guys home to paradise, while everyone else is left to deal with uncountable trials and tribulations.  Frank wasn't the kind of Christian that led people down the path of righteousness or attempted to be a living testament to his devotion, he was a grumpy, old man who wanted nothing more than to completely withdrawn from society.  He never waved or offered a friendly greeting, he just went about his business, ignoring everyone and everything.  Forced to live in a loud, congested part of the city due to financial difficulties caused by his inability to keep a job, the old man's head constantly throbbed to the beat of innumerable New York City commuters, criminals, and the incessant electrical hum that sounded in Frank's ears day and night unforgivingly.  He wished for it all to be gone and could even picture the skyscrapers and cars and every last idiot in a suit blow away like dust in the wind. 

         Frank awoke inside his favorite place in the world, St. Patrick's cathedral.  His eyes aglow with the flames of a thousand candles, the gray old man picked himself from the cobblestone floor and took in the sight of the religious work of art he had frequented every day for almost forty years.  Rarely did Christians visit this holy place as it was most definately of Catholic construction, but Frank so admired the beautiful structure that he couldn't stay away.  This is what he saved his deepest prayers for, to spill them in thisplace while he sat in the last pew,away from conversation and noise.  As Frank tried to figure out why he had blacked out, a chilly gust of wind blew the gigantic wooden doors of the cathedral wise open to reveal an empty street outside.  Frank glared, wondering why God would allow the filthy noise of the world outside to disturb him here, but no noise came.  Hobbling down the path between the rows of pews, theold man grew cautious as there was still no noise to be heard,no sounds at all.  It was a blissful sensation but Frank's eyes grew wide with caution, he didn't trust the silence.  The view outside the building caused Frank's jaw to drop, he almost lost control of his bladder as he stood staring at a road that never slept and never allowed a second without the roar of engines and constant onslaught of commuters screaming obscenities at eachother.  The was no screaming,no obscenities, no people to scream them and no vehicles with roaring engines.  Not even a breeze stirred the clean, empty streets.  The old hermit had amoment of peace for the first time he could remember.  Not even the dull,monotonous hum of electricity could be heard in the silence.  Suddenly, an unexplainable chill blasted over the man, turning his grin into a grimace, he felt like some foul being had just sprinted through his very soul, tearing a gaping exit wound as it left him standing there.  "Why is everyone gone?" he finally asked, as reality seeped into his conscious, "Why am I the only one?"  His 82 year old brain shifted into overdrive, skipping the other gears entirely.  Had he been wrong about religion entirely?  Was God punishing him?  This had to be the rapture, he convincingly insisted to the emptiness all around him, so why did God not take HIM?  Frank walked his quickest pace to the street corner, vision randomly panning around, looking and almost hoping for a person, a car, listening intently to the silence for a single swear word, but there was nothing.  The intersection could have been a still photo, hanging in the windless night in front of Frank's face for the lack of motion.  An endless stretch of lonely city met Frank's wide-eyed stare without remorse.  The city itself seemed to be glaring angrily at Frank, who was now in total shock.  All this time devoted to the one thing that betrayed him in the end, all those wasted years.  "How could I have been wrong?  What about the others, the believed the same thing as me!"  He screamed fruitlessly.  Frank was at what would have been considered a sprint had he been younger, but it more resembled a quicked hobble.  Frank's heart was pounding, blood coarsing through narrow arteries  and Frank's lungs heaved, struggling to supply oxygen to the bloodstream.  Frank was already approaching a total breakdown when his vision began to blur.  His miraculously perfect vision was all that Frank had left, it was something that he had prided himself on and thanked God for, as if it was a personal gift.  The city appeared to be melting, "Ok," the exhausted old man sobbed, "Ok, I was wrong.  You win, ok?" The tears began rolling down Frank's face while he dropped to his worn knees, his arm was throbbing pain and his head felt as if it were about to explode.  Frank's teary, empty gaze rose from the ground and looked for asky that his dark eyes couldn't see and he cried out again, "Fine, I was wrong.  I wasted my life!  The God I prayed to all this time doesn't even exist and everyone but me figured it out!"  He was becoming hoarse but subconsciously, Frank knew that his heart had had too much and his time was short.  He had to find his way to eternity on short notice, and had no idea what God was real if his wasn't.  "Whichever God is real, hear me!"  Frank screamed, "I am your loyal servant!  Allah,satan, I don't care, I am your servant!  Take me home!"  The old man collapsed on the sidewalk, panting and doubted he would get a response when a dark voice hissed from the shadows, "This is home old man, get used to it."  Frank's mind went black, he tried to scream at the voice but he had no voice.  He couldn't see, smell or hear anything as he ran through nothingness.  There was no ground beneath his feet, not even the taste of his own breath was present.  So this is hell, Frank thought in a single moment silent thought.  Laughter bellowed in the distance and Frank saw satan himself dancing eerily through his closed eyes and he knew he had been tricked.  God asks for faith and satan tests that faith, and when satan tested Frank, Frank failed.  The king of the damned gave Frank his wish, his quiet independence and Frank unwittingly thanked him with his soul just as he lost the ability to speak.  "Nice choice for your last words," Frank could picture God saying but sightless daydreams becdame a thing of the past in that instant, as fire and brimstone rained from the abyss and pelted a screaming Frank in the the lake of fire.

         "Jim, what's wrong with that guy?" asked Stan, a city cop asked his partner from his squad car.  "Um he's nuts like the other million nutjobs in this city, that'smy guess.  Let's go talk to him."  Jim replied, flicking the switch for his emergency lights.  A bystander greeted the patrol car at the intersection, "This guy's a real whack-job officer, he's been running around screaming all the way from St. Patrick's, he's a total nut."  The officers left the car and slowly walked toward the old man, hands at thier holsters as they watched him blankly look up and down every street in sight, a horried lookon his weathered face.  "Why is everyone gone?"  The man screamed, followed by inaudible yelling as he forced a quick hobble down 9th street with the officers in close pursuit.  The ambulance arrived and parked in the man's path, E.M.T.'s rushing to his aid.  The man ran face-first into the ambulance, stumbling back before falling to his knees as the police officers arrived.  Take me home!"  The man yelled with a hoarse voice.  The E.M.T. gave a quick reply while releasing the excess air from a ventilation bag, "This is home old man, get used to it."  "His heart stopped, I'm starting C.P.R.," the second E.M.T. reported, as the man's eyes darkened and grew still.  A man in a trenchcoat stood watching, dark sunglasses hiding his eyes.  "Nothin to see here buddy, move it." Officer Jefferies scolded.  The man with the sunglasses glanced at the officer and walked away, flipping open a worn bible as the officers watched.  "Kinda weird behavior for a religious guy huh?"  His partner nodded, then began the long process of completing the paperwork on the incident.

Stand against the devil, and the devil will run from you - James 4:7