As I sit in this familiar yet somewhat offbeat lonely bedroom surrounded by the four walls of dismal outcast acceptance, I can’t stop staring at the wheelchair abiding sheepishly under a dim lit lamp in the far corner of the room. Almost like standing in a doorway of a deserted hallway inside a mental institution, with lights flickering above and seeing an abandoned wheelchair slowly creek out around the bend at the end of the hallway. Something malevolent and disconcerting about the old shape and the raggedy rustic posture of this thing. If I stared long enough, I can see a faceless apparition wriggling around vacillatingly and the thumping soundless echoes quaking under the tiles and forcing them to crack and pop up one by one. The chair crawls with Gothic cobwebs numbing the imagination in me to forcefully conjure different sequences in my brain into what will happen if I continue to stair too long.

I’m all alone in this body deficient room cackling along to this maddening mirage and trying to hold fast to the final inch of sane intelligence. Behind the chair just a few feet above nailed permanently to the wall is a picture of Christ. Sitting upon a round rock nurturing a baby lamb, while the other sacrificial lambs come to order around our savior with curious eyes.

Softly turning the neck of Christ’s painted picture figure with his eyes slowly following, blue crystalline eyes twinkled piercing the color of my face to an equally blinding white sheet forcing me with now wide eyes to look away. His lips moved as soundless words spiraled in vortexes from his mouth spilling out from the hanging picture and dancing erratically through the stale air of my bedroom. The words “the bleeding heart that strums your soul will come to it’s end soon”.

Thundering in the heavens just outside the window, crashing rain roars down alongside silent lightening as my eyes began to shift out of focus.

In that instant the clock began blaring. Bright crimson numbers read 11:11. The lights and the TV simultaneously flickered steadfast quickening it’s pulse until at last darkness held captive the entire room. Minutes passed by as I sat still in the middle of the bed waiting unsure of what to do. It was momentarily deafening until a twitching hand gripped my shoulder blade and dreaded whispers of cold breath screamed into my face. Startled to the extreme, I lunged forward falling straight to the floor desperately kick starting my tired bones to dance out of the void and out of the room. But before I could move again, the lights came back on and the thunder and lightening subsided just as quickly as light shone throughout the room.

The wheelchair rattled to a standstill under the picture of the son of god. I sighed loudly relieved it was my imagination that scared the jeeps out of me. As I looked over to the wheelchair peripherally, the picture slightly above dangled crookedly.

He was gone.

The son of the almighty holy lord, had disappeared from the picture