
It was quiet and dark and the sun through the window was warming him just enough to keep him alert now his fight had begun.
The bench was hard but he could take that it was the pain in his side and chest which filled his being everything else was flat.
Fear gripped his mind, he was so cold inside yet a sweat was rippling down his back.His sight was blurred was he going blind.
Slowly a long hidden memory came to the fore. His mother had taught him it long before he had changed. “Gentle Jesus meek and mild look upon me a little child”
OH! Jesus if you are there help me now, I did not need you then but I do now. Jesus this pain is f###ing me, help me help me please. Slowly he slipped forward onto the floor a darkness washed over him and he new no more.
Where are you going son. No, out, will not do. Listen to me boy I am asking you. Why must you run with that pack it seems to me now there is no coming back. What has happened to you, you were such a good boy at school I had hopes that you’d go far but your just like your brother playing the fool. No your not wicked but your not a fool and I am telling you this, in my book you’re not cool.
What are you doing with that? Give it me back , don’t you threaten me son I’ll give you a smack. OH! Please will you listen to me don’t take that knife it will not set you free from the boredom in your life. It will not get you a job, it won’t make you a man what has happened to you and your world changing plan? You had vision and hunger for work a decent and pleasant boy not as you are now , just a jerk.
Clearing up quietly the priest approached the the last row when something on the floor caught the suns last glow. Red and sticky he knew what it was but he prayed to his God that it would not be true. The boy lying his arms out wide blood flowing from his side. A thought crossed his mind but he dismissed immediately. He looked like Jesus did, you see. Arms out wide , blood from his side a cut round his for head dripping blood in his eyes.
He took out his mobile and took a deep breath as he dialled , ambulance , police he begged his mind running wild. The operator was telling him what to do, “Keep him warm and stem the blood is what I want you to do.” He ripped off his cassock and swaddle the lad he then notice blood on his jeans ( the best ones he had) He cradled the boy and prayed in his ear “keep trying to stay ask now, Jesus will hear.”
It was half an hour until anyone arrived the paramedic crew gently moved the priest to one side. It was too late the boy was gone, then with their radios crackling loud, the police taped the area off,with people from everywhere arriving, such a crowed.
Standing back and looking around the priest said a prayer with out making a sound. “Dear God take the soul of this boy who died here today and give him some peace, and if you have time help me find words to sooth his family, at least ” Then sat down exhausted, he was just a man even though he was called priest.
A woman on her way home from work regretting an argument at the start of the day was wondering how to fix things and what she could say. She always said never give up, never leave a good word unsaid. Never leave things, sort them before you go to bed. Passing the church she saw her youngest boys friends , he wasn’t there perhaps they could make amends.
