Jesus Loves Me

By: Anthony James Velez

A little, strange looking boy had just blocked the door to his hiding spot keeping himself from life and death. He didn't know where his mother was: he'd lost her as he was running away. His entire house must been in shambles during his desperation to escape her wrath. He hoped his neighbors heard them: that would mean help would be on the way. He needed someone, anyone, to stop his mother from leading him to heaven before he was ready to ever go there.

He looked around what just so happened to be the basement for something he could use to defend himself. Unfortunately, that's when the emptiness he used whenever he needed to calm himself when his day was unbearable came back to bite him. The only thing that was in the room was the chest he already knew was locked. His mother kept it looked to keep everything she found during the day. He didn't even know for sure if anything in there would help him anyway.

Now cornered and ready for the slaughter that would soon become his fate. He walked toward the chest, turned around so his back was touching it, and slumped until he wound up dragging against the wooden texture as he took a depressed breath. In his mind, he had questions like "What did I do?" and "What have I said to anger you, lord?"

Why did god himself want him dead, especially when it was so early in his lifetime, before he'd even done anything that could be a sin mistake or otherwise? He thought that meant he mattered in the eyes of the lord; that his life was worth something to at least him if nobody else. Yet, his mother had been trying to take his life for hour under his command. He was clearly wrong, and not even god himself felt he was worth anything in the world.

He felt his breath hitch and eyes get blurry as his depressing thoughts clouded his mind. This was not good by any means; if he let his emotions get ahead of him, mother would find him and he couldn't do anything to save himself when she did. He had to do something if he was going to be safe for at least a few more minutes. He wiped his eyes of unshed tears and calmed his breathing in an attempt to get a hold of himself. He then began to brainstorm on ideas on how to make himself feel better so he could stay hidden from the insane woman with a knife ready to rip him apart.

Then he had an idea from the past. When his father was still alive, he would always do this whenever he got upset and ran to him. Maybe he could do it too if he tried. He'd have to keep quiet if it was going to work the way it was intended right now, but it was the only thing he could think of. He got up from the floor walked toward his door and put an ear to it to listen for his mother in case she was anywhere near him.

When he could tell there wasn't anyone there to flush him out of his hiding spot, he walked back and got into his earlier position before clearing his throat. Then, he began to sing.

"Jesus loves me, this I know. For the bible tells me so. Little ones to him below, they are weak while he is strong. Yes, Jesus loves me-"he repeated those lyrics two more times before singing "-the Bible tells me so."

He sang this song over and over try to feel better. It didn't work. It didn't work because he knew it wasn't true. He was arrogant for thinking so.

Nobody else did, why should the man above when he was so busy spreading his love to those who truly did deserve it? His tears streamed more and more as he put his hands over his eyes to keep more from coming to no avail. His breathing shuddered and hiccupped as he wept. His mother would most likely find him if he didn't calm down. As he continued to weep, he began to care as little as everyone else around him did.

If he had paid a little more attention to his surroundings as opposed to his ever growing misery caused by a cruel world, he would've something touching him in a soft, almost nurturing matter. There was also a faint glow, but his hands blocked his view of the light. An angel was next to him, a sad frown on her face as she looked at the poor soul. He was wrong; there was someone in his life that felt like he meant something just as he had hoped. He would show him when it mattered most, he'd see.