Angry at God

(short story)

I slammed the door to my room, falling into a heap on my bed as I sobbed. The funeral had been so difficult to just be apart of, let alone read a eulogy out loud. Tears streaming down my face. How could God let this happen? He took away the only person who knew me, who understood me. Was He punishing me?

My breathing sped up as I let out a wail. "I hate you!" I screamed raising my head with a strong rage held in my eyes. "I hate you, I hate you! How could you do this? How could you kill him? I've been good, he was a good person. We didn't do anything wrong, we followed the rules. Went to church, what more did you want from us!"

I grabbed a cross with Jesus on it and threw it at my wall. It cracked and split into a thousand different pieces.

"You did this!"

A soft voice made me stop crying for a second. I listened again. It was my name, and it sounded like it came from behind me. I spun around. A figure stood there in front of the doorway, staring at me sadly. A white robe covering his form.

"Jesus?" My eyes widened. "I-i" I didn't know what I could say to make up for my actions. "I didn't-"

Jesus started walking toward me. He didn't look upset, just extremely disappointed. He wrapped his arms around me gently, causing me to melt in them, curling closer into his warmth. All my anger and hate disappearing.

"I'm so sorry." I cried, gripping his clothing. "I just miss him so much."

"It's okay. I understand." Jesus spoke, his voice calm and soothing.

"No, I shouldn't have said that, I didn't mean it. I don't hate you."

I felt his grip tighten on me. "I know you don't."

"But why? Why would you kill him? He didn't do anything wrong."

Jesus took in a deep breath, I felt his chest expand as he did so. "I didn't kill him. But I didn't save him either. It was time for him to come home. I'm sorry I had to take him away from you, but it was for the best. One day you will understand."

"Have you talked to him, my husband?" I asked pulling back to look Jesus in his eyes, an emerald green color. His eyes held a sense of mystery and loving adoration.

"Yes, I have. He saw how distraught you were and made me come down here to comfort you." He smiled with a knowing look.

I let out a wet laugh at the mention of him. "He can see me?"

"Yes, he was definitely upset at first."

"Yeah, he would be." I smiled at the thought.

"Better now?" Jesus asked, wiping my tears away with his thumb.

I nodded. "Much. Thank you for- for caring."

"Of course, anything that matters to you matters tenfold to me." He pulled me close and kissed me briefly on the forehead.

He started to release but I clung onto him. "Don't go yet, please?"

He looked reluctant, but finally nodded. "Okay, but you have to go to sleep. I know you haven't been sleeping."

I glanced around sheepishly. "Yeah it's been difficult. I'm used to him being there." I leaned easily onto Jesus and he leaned back onto my bed with my head on his chest. I used to fall asleep listening to my husbands heartbeat, now it was Jesus'. Before I knew it, I was asleep in the arms of my maker and all my worries were gone.