and splatter his mother. I know it’s impolite to speak ill of the mentally deficient, especially when they’re children, but God almighty. I’m glad you turned out to be a little weirdo. I’ll send you a picture of the cat eyeball and try to record the sound of the blood spire screaming.
I’m staying at the Hyatt hotel, and there’s supposedly a bar up on the roof, but I haven’t been able to find it yet. When I leave my hotel room, the hallway seems to lead to the elevators one way, and stretch off forever in the other direction. I tried to walk that way earlier, but it went on and on. The numbers started getting weird down that way, too. 1401, 1402, 1403 at first, which made sense, but the further I got, the less sense anything made. I turned back when I got to a room numbered 14-help-me-Elizabeth-help-me-die.
And in the elevator, the button for the rooftop bar was just a hole, rather than a glowing button. It was black and dark and deep-seeming, and there was a scritching sound coming from inside. I did not try to push the button. But I’m curious. And I don’t know how long I can refrain from jamming my finger in there! I miss you and I hope that you’ve wandered away from the camp and into the woods. I hope that you’ve been kidnapped by wolves, and they are raising you as your own. They could smell it on you, Martin. You are a wild animal. You will be a valuable member of their pack when you are grown.
Love,
Your mom.
Mitchell Hemsworth sat on the edge of a washing machine, and waited for the priest to answer his question. The machine he was sitting on was empty, but the one next to it was rumbling and making the whole row of machines vibrate. Mitchell had blond hair and blue eyes and right now they were rimmed in red. He wanted to accept Jesus into his heart. He did. But he didn’t know what that felt like. He felt normal. He didn’t feel filled with light or saved. He didn’t feel like he was at peace or special.
“No, it’s not like that,” Father Tony, the head counsellor, said. They were in the laundry room, so they could talk quietly. After the speech, when Father Tony asked whether they had accepted Jesus into their hearts, Mitchell hadn’t known what to do. So he stayed behind instead of going into the other room where all the cake and cookies were. He was the only one who stayed. “You let Jesus into your heart by having faith in Him,” Father Tony said. “Those other feelings, they come over time. It’s not like flicking a switch, son. Nothing in this life is as easy as that.”
Mitchell wiped his nose on the back of his hand and looked out the window where the rest of the campers were running around, and shrieking with laughter. They were all sure that they had Jesus in their hearts, but Mitchell hadn’t known. He wanted to let Jesus into his heart. But everyone else went into the next room like they were sure and Mitchell stayed.
And he was scared, too.
“If I accept Jesus into my heart,” Mitchell said, “Then I’ll be saved? And when I die, I’ll live forever in heaven?”
“Yes,” Father Tony said.
“But will my dad?” Mitchell had trouble getting these words out. His dad was an atheist. He didn’t go to church, and he made jokes about priests sometimes. He didn’t want to tell Tony that, though. “He doesn’t believe in God,” Mitchell said.
“Well, no,” Tony said. “I know it’s scary, but there’s nothing you can do for your father. He has to choose for himself.”
Mitchell cried harder. There was nothing he could do to protect his father from going to hell.
“But it won’t bother you,” the priest said. He put his hand on the boy’s head and tousled his hair. “You’ll be in a better place. You won’t even notice that your dad isn’t with you.” Tony smiled.
“I will,” Mitchell said. “It will bother me.”
Tony let out a laugh, and then clamped a hand over his mouth. “Sorry,” he said, and then he laughed again. “God,
I’m staying at the Hyatt hotel, and there’s supposedly a bar up on the roof, but I haven’t been able to find it yet. When I leave my hotel room, the hallway seems to lead to the elevators one way, and stretch off forever in the other direction. I tried to walk that way earlier, but it went on and on. The numbers started getting weird down that way, too. 1401, 1402, 1403 at first, which made sense, but the further I got, the less sense anything made. I turned back when I got to a room numbered 14-help-me-Elizabeth-help-me-die.
And in the elevator, the button for the rooftop bar was just a hole, rather than a glowing button. It was black and dark and deep-seeming, and there was a scritching sound coming from inside. I did not try to push the button. But I’m curious. And I don’t know how long I can refrain from jamming my finger in there! I miss you and I hope that you’ve wandered away from the camp and into the woods. I hope that you’ve been kidnapped by wolves, and they are raising you as your own. They could smell it on you, Martin. You are a wild animal. You will be a valuable member of their pack when you are grown.
Love,
Your mom.
Mitchell Hemsworth sat on the edge of a washing machine, and waited for the priest to answer his question. The machine he was sitting on was empty, but the one next to it was rumbling and making the whole row of machines vibrate. Mitchell had blond hair and blue eyes and right now they were rimmed in red. He wanted to accept Jesus into his heart. He did. But he didn’t know what that felt like. He felt normal. He didn’t feel filled with light or saved. He didn’t feel like he was at peace or special.
“No, it’s not like that,” Father Tony, the head counsellor, said. They were in the laundry room, so they could talk quietly. After the speech, when Father Tony asked whether they had accepted Jesus into their hearts, Mitchell hadn’t known what to do. So he stayed behind instead of going into the other room where all the cake and cookies were. He was the only one who stayed. “You let Jesus into your heart by having faith in Him,” Father Tony said. “Those other feelings, they come over time. It’s not like flicking a switch, son. Nothing in this life is as easy as that.”
Mitchell wiped his nose on the back of his hand and looked out the window where the rest of the campers were running around, and shrieking with laughter. They were all sure that they had Jesus in their hearts, but Mitchell hadn’t known. He wanted to let Jesus into his heart. But everyone else went into the next room like they were sure and Mitchell stayed.
And he was scared, too.
“If I accept Jesus into my heart,” Mitchell said, “Then I’ll be saved? And when I die, I’ll live forever in heaven?”
“Yes,” Father Tony said.
“But will my dad?” Mitchell had trouble getting these words out. His dad was an atheist. He didn’t go to church, and he made jokes about priests sometimes. He didn’t want to tell Tony that, though. “He doesn’t believe in God,” Mitchell said.
“Well, no,” Tony said. “I know it’s scary, but there’s nothing you can do for your father. He has to choose for himself.”
Mitchell cried harder. There was nothing he could do to protect his father from going to hell.
“But it won’t bother you,” the priest said. He put his hand on the boy’s head and tousled his hair. “You’ll be in a better place. You won’t even notice that your dad isn’t with you.” Tony smiled.
“I will,” Mitchell said. “It will bother me.”
Tony let out a laugh, and then clamped a hand over his mouth. “Sorry,” he said, and then he laughed again. “God,
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