by LJ Amodeo
“Freddie! I’m so happy to see you. You had me so worried. I thought I lost you. Don’t ever do that again! Why haven’t you returned any of my texts? I must have sent you a two dozen of them?” I rambled on in one breath. I realized I was pissed.
Freddie gently pried my arms off of his neck. His smile wavered and his eyes turned sad. Before he spoke, he cleared his throat looking detached. “I....I just came to say goodbye.” His eyes looked to the carpeted floor. I bent my body to lower my face to look into his eyes.
“Freddie? What are you talking about? What do you mean, goodbye?” I racked my brain to find the right words, hoping to convince him that he was making a big mistake, but I couldn’t think of any. Instead I recalled the very evening our friendship went astray.
“Was it something I did? That night at your house, Fred, I . . . ”
“It has nothing to do with that night, Elizabeth.” He stated icily.
For the first time in our friendship, Freddie called me by my birth name. It was at this precise moment in our relationship, that I knew I was losing my closest friend. In the past eight years that Freddie and I have been inseparable, this boy standing before me was a stranger. A serious, sad and lonely stranger.
“Freddie, I’m begging you, don’t leave me, too. At least, tell me where you’re going. How to find you if I need you.” He shook his head sadly, ignoring my requests.
“Freddie, who am going to call when I need to talk to someone? You’re scaring me? Why do you need to leave, why now? You’re my best friend, Freddie! Don’t walk out on me.” It was useless pledging my oath to my better half, for the tears poured irrepressibly from my eyes.
“I am leaving for Michigan. A college there accepted my applications and I need to settle in before the start of the new semester.” His cold stare sent chills hurdling down my spine.
“Why haven’t you told me you applied for college there? What happened to always staying together? Why Michigan? What’s in Michigan that Rochester or Houghton College can’t offer you?” I asked stunned at the news.
“It’s where I need to be, Beth.” He looked down at his sneakers.
“You’re wrong, we need to be together, Freddie. You promised me that we’d always be together.” I cried softly.
“Things change, Beth. People change! You’ll find your own way. And when you do, maybe you won’t need me.” he said remorsefully.
“I’ll always need you, Freddie.” I whispered with a heavy heart.
“Take care of yourself, Bethy.” He wiped my tear with his thumb before placing a gentle kiss on my cheek and like Michael, walked out without looking back.
An empty shell. That’s how I felt for weeks after Freddie and Michael left. One to follow a dream, and the other to end a nightmare. The piano was my only solace. I’d play sunrise to sunset. My mom could no longer stand by and watch me slip into my depressive laments, or listen to my cries for help at night, or control my fits of rage in the middle of the afternoon against my creator. She couldn’t handle me anymore. It was too much for her to deal with alone. Toomuch of a reminder of my father’s last days at home. Dr. Bates suggested she leave me alone to sort out my issues. As usual, he’d prescribe medication to deal with each of my emotional states. And as usual, I’d flush them down the toilet. It no longer bothered me that my mom was spending so much time with that asshole. In the beginning it hurt me that I was losing my mother to that prick. Now I was numb and didn’t care if she or her doctor friend thought I was crazy. I knew what I was. My journal somehow told part of my story. It held the answers.The hell with them! The hell with all of them,I’d write in my journal.
It had been exactly five weeks and three days since Michael left for Pucon and Freddie headed for Michigan. I had no contact with either one of them. All I did was pray for my angel’s safe return and my friend’s reply. I thought about the choices I had to make, to live a life with the ones I loved or to die, taking with me the sole reason why the Holy Trinity protected me from the very evil that battled against the one I loved. A sacred Order formed to shield me and all those who herald before me. If only I could reach out to my father and the Trinity, to give myself to them and spare the life of my divine messenger. From my world, the Order of the Holy Trinity
was impervious and unattainable. Even the voices in my head quieted their pleas. I called out to my father day in and day out. He never appeared. None of the voices or images made their presence before me, any longer. Only can an angel help me find my way now.
The late summer sun set across the horizon. My endless emails to Freddie remained unanswered. The turmoil of not knowing my friend’s whereabouts, twisted in my stomach.
August 7: Freddie, I have written you countless emails hoping to hear some news from you. I’ve been worried sick about you. I don’t know where you are, or how you’re doing. All I know is that you left home heading for Michigan, never telling me the college you planned to attend. I’ve called practically every university and college in the area. None of the schools have you on their register. I worry about you all day long and pray that you will call me or at least answer my emails. I called your house and no one ever seems to be there. I left numerous messages on the answering machine. I’m guessing your parents must be away since they haven’t returned any of my calls. Please, Freddie, I beg you, just answer one email so that I can rest assure that you are safe and well. I miss you.
Bethy
August 11:Freddie, I am so sad and upset that I still haven’t heard from you. I wish you would respond or write something. I am so lonely without you. I can’t sleep or eat anymore. I sleep to forget the pain. Please answer me!
Bethy
August 15:Freddie, my garden is looking lifeless. I lost my perennials. They withered away, kind of like me. I don’t get out much anymore and I stopped running. All day I sleep or play the piano because there is nothing more for me to do. I’ve written a composition piece for my entrance exam to the University of Rochester. I called it, “Absentis Vos” translation: I Miss You.
I’d luv 2 make u hear it 1 day.
Bethy
August 23: Freddie, I don’t know what is happening to me. I cry and I’ve been having terrible thoughts. Thoughts that would make a sinner of me, vial and vicious thoughts against a certain doctor. I am so scared, I hardly recognize myself. I rarely see mom anymore, but I’ve been visited frequently by her boyfriend. The creepy Dr. Bates. He keeps Mom very busy lately, and I think he’s trying to keep her away from me. Please, let me know that I am not alone, that someone, somewhere still cares about me. I’m all alone. I need you.
Beth
August 27:Freddie, I pray for you every night. I cannot tell you enough how sorry I am. I miss you. If you only knew how worried I’ve been for you and how scared I’ve been. Please, dear God, let him answer my emails. I need my friend back!!!
Beth
August 30: Freddie, I’ve started packing for Rochester. The university board loved my composition. I owe it all to you. I am excited to finally leave home. Mom said that Seth (the creepy doctor) has found me a small apartment near the school grounds. Our first group trip as young composers is going to be Lincoln Center in December. Can you imagine, Lincoln Center during Christmas! This is going to be such a wonderful experience. I wish you were coming with me. We were supposed to do this together. Remember? Now you are somewhere in Michigan, and can only hope that you are well. I pray you are happy, wherever you are. I’m not sure if I can do this anymore. I am not handling this separation well. My mom and Seth said these unanswered emails are not healthy for me. Seth’s insisting I stop the insanity because it is causing me more harm than good. I must think of myself now, therefore, I need to concentrate on my studies and focus on my recovery. I cannot do this if you are all I think about. I must say goodbye. This is my last email to you. I miss you and I will always love you, my friend.
Elizabeth Anne Morgan
~
I snapped my laptop shut and turned off my lamp. I la
y in bed staring up at the ceiling fan. The faint glow of the moon sketched the outline of spinning blades against the white canvas ceiling. My lids fell heavy, as did my heart. I cried for the two that I loved, until I fell into a somber sleep.
I was awakened by the sounds of musical voices echoing my name. The radiant moon illuminated the empty road. I knew it was my duty to go to them. Michael said they’d come for me. I was not afraid. A wonderful feeling guided me toward the angelic voices, showing me the way to the gate leading to the point where Heaven rests on Earth.
My bare feet ached beneath the pebbled road, while my palms stretched outward toward the silhouette of the waxing moon. Voices spoke in unity, “Elizabeth adeo mihi. Operor non vereor mihi.” The words spoken in Latin were not familiar to me, yet I understood. “I do not fear you.” I replied to the foreign voices. “ Show yourselves and I will come to you.”
In the distant shadows of the moon’s reflection, a small child waited. She was beautiful, like the children who once played by the lake dressed in creamy garb. Her golden locks swayed in the gentle summer winds. Her dimpled cheeks curved her pink lips to smile sweetly at me. She spoke in a foreign tongue, “adeo mihi.” She laughed as she playfully flitted off into the woods wanting me to follow her. Playfully, I chased her through the forest, calling for her to show herself. I could only hear the faint laughter of her enchanting voice as we ran past the tall trees. In the opposite direction, another voice was heard, not laughing, instead whimpering. I stopped to observe a child, a boy, crouching over a small injured bird. His big blue eyes looked up at me, but instantly, he fled into the darkness of the forest and the little bird took flight. I can clearly hear their mischievous laughter through the silence of the woods.
“Hic ego sum , adveho reperio mihi,” the little boy giggled.
“Where? Where are you? I don’t see you. Show yourselves so that I may follow.” I replied.
The sounds of their little feet against the hardened earth reverberated. “Super hic, per saxum.” They replied in harmony.
“Large stone?” I asked.
“Preteritus ancient cedar.” They sang melodically.
I walked around the enormous ancient cedar tree and found the two children waiting for me by the opening of a large grotto carved into the mountain side. A huge stone, that once covered the opening of the cave, rested against the foot of the giant mountain.
“Habitum meus manus manus quod insisto nos,” the children recited. As they asked, I placed my hands in their tiny palms as they led me inside the cavern. I was not afraid.
The scent of dampened stone and earth filled the enclosure. The children pulled me through a narrow passageway. The wetness of the soil blackened my bare feet. Their tiny hands were moist in my palms as they led me deeper into the concave. Voices in the hollows chanted louder as their tiny feet proceeded with more urgency.
“St. Michael ut unus of presertim procer quod rector of copiae copie of Olympus in sicco triumphus super vox of abyssus,” they chanted in Latin, yet I knew what they prayed for. "St. Michael, as chief prince and leader of the forces of heaven in our triumph over the powers of hell...” I repeated their words, softly.
We entered an opening that lead into a rock-hewn, marking its rectangular stone on a pedestal, as its sacred altar. Gently placed upon the stone were a thin pale cloth of linen and a crown of thorns. My lips parted in astonishment when I realized I was standing in the tomb of the Lord, Jesus Christ. I fell to my knees and bowed my head thankful for this moment. A small group of protectors gathered around the sacred stone. Michael, knelt before the Council, dressed in resplendent armor of pewter and gold. His massive wings brushed the arched rock above our heads. He bowed his head, supporting a golden sword pitched into the earth before of him, as he received a blessing from the Order.
“O Prince of the heavenly Host, by the power of God, cast into hell, Satan and all the other evil spirits, who prowl through the world, seeking the ruin of souls! Amen!”
“Amen!” the small congregation chorally chanted in musical unity.
The children continued to hold my hands as their lovely faces gazed at me with adoration in their eyes.
Gripped in the hands of the chief council was a large leather-bound book with the Star of David engraved on its worn cover. I recognized the book as the rumored copy of the apocryphal Delomelanicon. In the underworld of secret societies, it is known that this book was a reproduction of nine woodcut engravings written by Satan himself. I recognized the book from my father’s replica in his library collection. The Order kept this text hidden for many centuries. Cults have hunted this manuscript to no avail. This book continues to be furtively protected by the ancient secret society of La Trinita, for if it goes into the hands of the immoral, pages within it contain knowledge of how to raise Satan himself. This would mean the end of all that is good
and blessed as we know it. The end of days. The elderly council member looked prudently at me as his fingers gripped the devil’s works tightly.
Michael rose and stood tall like a statue. His face hard and uncompromising. His eyes remained on Erez, a high priest of La Trinita, as he gave Michael his blessing for a safe journey and triumphant return. Behind him, two soldiers, standing in the shadows of the cave, could not be clearly seen. They waited for Michael’s orders. Together with his principal sentinels, the army swiftly exited the tomb.
The children tugged at my delicate sheath and gestured to follow them out. I complied. We ran through the woods, following the outline of the twisting river. The sky darkened with a fierce thunder echoing above our heads. Thoughts of my final summer vacation at Lake Sinclair ripped through my mind. The children raced up the hill in pursuit of something unimaginable. Their breathing remained calm and even, while mine was deep and desperate. They did not look to each other, their eyes concentrated only on me. We reached the neck of a ravine known as the Skull. Clouds danced around in perplexity, as the winds forced themselves through the feeble leaves that collapsed onto the soiled earth. Spontaneously, piercing bolts shattered the peaceful heavens while the sky started to burn.
Deafening sounds and shrills were heard shuddering through the quakes of thunder. I looked up to see scores of patriotic protectors soaring through the sky, while deformed progenies struck with exacerbated assaults. Crushing thuds exploded in concord with nature’s roars. Towering pines crashed against the ascended knolls, crumbling like ancient stones made of sand. The demonic spawns struck relentlessly at the winged guardians, crushing a White Knight with
severe vengeance. I couldn’t watch and squeezed my eyes shut. The moans of agonizing grief riveted through the air and into my soul. These were the sorrow cries of our glorious defenders. The woes of a righteous one lost.
The children gripped my hands and bowed their golden heads in silent prayer for the lost. Shrieks and growls continued to vibrate through the skies. The wails of the beastly incubus penetrated the forest, terrifying birds, who suddenly took flight in abrupt panic, who moments earlier, rested on the peaks of the giant Sequoias. The gruesome figures sprinted eerily up the soaring trees, crouching and plunging with staggered vengeance toward the glorious winged army. The guardians’ flight was one of fortitude and precision, crushing every demonic offspring that hurtled past them in exaggerated speeds. The encounter would not be visible to a mortal. But through my eyes, the eyes of a soul that held the key to both worlds, the accuracy of the combat was as clear as the sapphire gems in the eyes of my two little friends.
For a fraction of a second, Michael sped past us with dynamic speed. The largest incubus, twisted and vile in form, whom I believed to be Luca, careened toward my angel with seething revulsion smeared across his rancid face. He unleashed his burning anger, wrath, indignation and hostility, a band of fallen angels against Michael’s army,. He prepared a path for his vengeance. He would not spare the Watchers from a gruesome ending.
The worldly icons of heaven and hell collided, creating a ripple of convulsions across th
e landscape. I lost my balance, tumbling down into the narrow abyss. My skull slammed into a boulder at the base of the gully. The tremors of the earth kept my body pinned in the flowing
stream, while droplets of my blood colored the streaming waters. Instantly, Luca hurled my body up into the air, crushing my ribs. Below I could hear the faint sounds of the children’s cries.
Deep, eerie yowls and laughter vibrated in my ears. A warm, thick liquid trickled down the side of my face. His scaly, jagged tongue licked hungrily at my bloodied wounds. The pungent odor of the decaying fey that reeked off his forked tongue stung my lungs. I heaved with repulsion. My eyes struggled to focus on the earth below me. The shards of distorted limbs, and rotted, decapitated bodies coated the woodland floor. I focused to see Michael striking his sword through the radical carcasses of demonic beasts, as he frantically headed toward me. An unsightly figure seized the moment to strike Michael across his chest, slashing his flesh. The powerful force that gripped my waist, continued to drag me deeper into the gloomy forest as he hissed the words "The chosen one will bring both realms to the ultimate climax."
Chapter 19: Terminus
On account of abundant iniquity, the love of many will grow cold. Only those who endure to the end will be saved (Matt.24,12-13; Mark 13,13; Luke 21,19).
~
For the past several weeks, I’ve come to terms with the idea of dying. I imagined it would be tragic; perhaps a car crash, a hit and run, or even murder. I never thought it would be at the mercy of Lucifer’s son.
~
I prayed that I would be forgiven, for once my soul was taken, the souls of all humanity would not be spared. Indeed then, would Satan’s seed reign on earth as Jesus once had. In my final moments, I asked God to forgive me for what I had done and if possible, to bless my soul.
