Thou Shall Not: A Dark Ten Commandments Anthology

by Michelle Brown

  “Oh, good,” a soft voice comes from the door as a plump older woman dressed in scrubs walks toward the bed. “Dr. Syed will be thrilled to know you’re awake. You gave us quite the scare,” she says, patting my hand.

  My chapped lips stick together as I try to open them, releasing a hoarse croaking sound in place of the words I try to speak.

  What happened to me?

  Where are my parents?

  “Here, sweetie,” the nurse murmurs, holding a straw against my lips. “It’s only water, but I need you to take slow sips.” The cold liquid soothes my throat as I follow her instructions and drink slowly. “We had to intubate you and you were temporarily on a ventilator while you were in a coma. The tube that was in your trachea is what made your throat sore, but that will go away.”

  My mouth hangs open, releasing the straw that spins around the cup, leaving droplets of water on the nurse’s hand.

  “A coma?” I whisper in a voice I don’t recognize.

  A knock on the door has the woman’s attention as I bore holes into the back of her head, expecting an answer to my question, more to all of the questions I have. She walks over to the door, greeting who must be Dr. Syed. They both talk in hushed voices, occasionally glancing back at me while they talk like I’m not even there. I wait patiently, but patience was one of the last feelings I have inside. Their little pow-wow finally breaks apart and the nurse goes to work, charting things from the monitors while the doctor pulls a chair up to sit down beside me.

  This can’t be good.

  Whenever someone sits down or tells you to sit down, it’s never good.

  Her amber brown eyes are sorrowful, her face is sullen, full of regret. My stomach drops.

  “Rebecca,” she starts in a light accent and a small smile. “I’m Dr. Syed and it is so nice to finally meet you.”

  I give her a quick nod, saving my words for something more important and more relevant.

  “You were in a very bad car accident and had a significant brain bleed from the impact of the crash. We were able to operate and get the bleeding under control, but we had to put you in a medically induced coma until the swelling went down as we were unsure of the extent of any brain damage.” She takes a deep breath before continuing when I interject before she says another word.

  “What day is it?” I demand, my voice harsh and hoarse.

  She swallows hard. “It’s Tuesday, December twenty-seventh.”

  My memory of the night of our accident rushes through my mind. The fighting, the car sliding, the impact, the silence. It happened on Christmas Eve. That was three nights ago.

  “My parents,” I whisper, unable to speak much louder. “Where are they?”

  The doctor’s face falls slightly and she looks at me with gentle eyes. “Rebecca, I’m so sorry to tell you this, but they didn’t make it.”

  Bile rises into my throat and my entire chest constricts as tears begin to fill my eyes, threatening to spill over. “They didn’t make it?” my voice shakes as I ask with hesitation.

  Closing her eyes, she lets out a deep sigh of resignation before looking at me again. “They died instantly on impact and there wasn’t anything we could do to bring them back.”

  “So, they didn’t survive?” I question her again, feeling the tears slowly drying in my eyes.

  Slowly, she nods with a look of pity consuming her face.

  “Okay,” I say with renewed confidence. “They’re at peace now.”

  The doctor gives me a puzzled look, swallowing hard and nervously cracks her knuckles before standing up. “The police wanted to speak to you once you had woken up, but I can tell them tomorrow would be better so you can have some time to process this.”

  “I’d like to speak with them today,” I say quietly. “There’s no sense in dragging this out any longer than needed.”

  “If you’re sure,” she says with hesitation evident in her voice. Silently, I nod, and she returns the gesture before exiting the room, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

  They didn’t make it.

  Dr. Syed was wrong because they did make it. They had finally made it home, back to where they were truly needed. God’s work for them had been completed and it was all in his plan, it was their time and he called them home. When God calls, you always answer because He doesn’t leave messages and He controls your destiny.

  Time is nonexistent as the warmth within my heart spreads throughout my body, filling me with a calming sense of peace. Two police officers enter my room eventually, but I’m on a completely different spiritual level than them, their names have no importance to me. They aren’t biblical, they’re not children of God. Satan placed them here to plague mankind with his toxicity and the evil.

  “What do you remember of that night?” Satan’s lanky servant asks, holding the tip of a pen to a notepad, staring at me with eyes full of what someone might consider sympathy. I know it’s an act. He’s a fraud.

  I go over the night robotically. I tell him about the other car, my father swerving, crashing and waking up here, alone without my parents. He already knows that they didn’t survive the crash, but with a look of satisfaction, I make sure he knows that they made it home.

  He gives me a small uncomfortable smile and a curt nod while Satan’s other servant steps up. He’s not quite as tall, but he’s clearly the muscle of the duo.

  “You should know that we did get a statement from the couple in the other car and they are not criminally responsible for the accident,” he says in a calm, deeper tone. Satan’s voice is hot on his tongue.

  My eyes widen as my mouth falls open. “I saw the headlights coming straight toward us. They weren’t injured at all?” I ask with disgust.

  Satan’s muscle cocks his head to the side, scrunching his eyebrows. “No, thankfully they weren’t injured, considering how many were already hurt in this tragedy. And judging off the tire tracks and other evidence, they weren’t at fault.”

  Satan continues to spin his web of lies as they flow from his servants’ mouths, slowly filling the room, blocking God’s energy building inside me.

  “Officers,” I say quietly, in a sweet voice. “I am very exhausted and need to rest, please.”

  They both glance at each other and look back at me nodding. “I think we have everything we need,” the lanky one says. “We’ll be in touch if anything else comes up and we’re very sorry for your loss, Miss Thomas.”

  I nod, thanking them and adjust on the uncomfortable hospital bed, resting my head. Closing my eyes, I slowly start to drift asleep when the sound of a phone breaks through the silence, jolting me awake. I stare at the phone on the nightstand as it rings again.

  “You know who that is.”

  My eyes flash to the chair in the corner of the room and find my father sitting there with his leg resting on his knee.

  “Daddy?” I croak as the phone rings again.

  “You need to answer that,” he commands, rising to his feet and pointing at the phone.

  Reluctantly, I pick up the phone and press it against my ear. I’m greeted with silence, but the silence tells me everything I need to know. My heart grows warmer, threatening to burst out of my chest with bright beams of light, straight from the heavens. A grin forms on my face, one I can’t contain as I softly hang up the phone.

  “That was your call,” my father says with a proud look in his eyes.

  Eagerly, I nod. “It was my call, but it’s not my time,” I tell him.

  He smiles at me, the smile reaching his eyes. “He has work for you to do.”

  “He has a very important job that he needs me for,” I tell him.

  “I know,” he admits. “And I know that you won’t disappoint Him.”

  “I will do God’s work as He intends and I promise I won’t let any of you down,” I say confidently.

  My father walks closer, gently pushing me back against my pillow. “Rest now, child. You’re going to need your strength and your energy.”

  Closing my ey
es, I quickly fall asleep as he stands beside me lightly stroking my hair. I fall asleep to the sound of his voice quietly talking about God’s plan for me.

  Chapter Four

  IT’S BEEN NEARLY A week since the accident and they’re finally letting me out of here. Sitting down on the hospital bed, I wait in the unfamiliar clothing that the hospital gave me to go home in. The clothing I came in here with were ruined and I had no one to go get clothes for me.

  That’s a lie.

  Many people from our church reached out to me, mainly out of pity, but still to try and offer help. I refused their help and wasn’t taking any visitors. I was only accepting calls at this time and they weren’t from anyone here on Earth.

  “Here are your discharge instructions,” the nurse says as she walks into the room, shoving them into my hands. “Is someone picking you up?”

  I stare at the papers as she continues to stand there wasting my time and nod without looking up. Rising to my feet, I go to walk past her and out into the hallway.

  “Wait,” she says, grabbing my arm. “Someone is coming with a wheelchair to take you out. It’s standard procedure.”

  “I really must be going,” I say urgently, shaking her hand off. “The clock’s ticking and God doesn’t take rain checks.” She quickly scoots in front of me, blocking the doorway as I go to move.

  “At least let me walk you down to the lobby or something,” she insists, the desperation clear in her voice as she crosses her arms over her chest.

  Swiftly shaking my head, I roughly brush past her, ramming my shoulder into her as my hand skates over the pocket of her scrub top. As she loses her balance, I grab onto her arms to keep her from falling and steady her on her feet.

  “You should be careful,” I tell her as I step into the bright, sterile smelling hallway. “You could really hurt yourself, you know?”

  She stares at me with wide eyes and a frightful look on her face as I give her a warm smile before walking away. I take the elevator to the first floor and exit through the lobby and step out onto the busy sidewalk. A cold breeze carries the frigid air, burning my already rosy cheeks. Wrapping my coat tighter around my body, I quickly shuffle to the street and hail a cab.

  Climbing into the bright yellow car, I give the driver my address and get situated in the backseat. Slipping my hand into my coat pocket, I pull out a smooth plastic card. Flipping it over in my hand, I trace the name of the hospital and the nurse’s name before running my finger over the solid black line on the back.

  “Looks like you were able to pull that part of the plan off,” a voice speaks beside me. Glancing over, I’m met with my father sitting next to me, wearing the same khaki pants and red dress shirt.

  “You know what to do with that, right?” He motions to the name badge in my hands. Glancing down, a smile slowly creeps onto my face as I begin to feel giddy.

  Looking back up, I bite my lip, trying not to giggle as I swiftly nod my head.

  “Good,” he says with a small smile, reaching over to pat my knee. “Just keep following the plan and everything will work out the way He intends.”

  “Miss?” I hear another voice now. “Miss?” I look to the front of the car and find the taxi driver staring at me like I have two heads. “Is this the right place?”

  Looking out the window, I see my childhood home, empty and dark, waiting for me to come in. I glance back at the seat beside me, finding it empty.

  “Miss?” the taxi driver asks again. “Is this where you needed to be?”

  Quietly, I nod, pulling out some cash from my wallet and toss it onto the passenger seat.

  “It is for now,” I say, giving him a small smile as I climb out of the cab and walk up the walkway to the house.

  Out of habit, I empty out the mailbox and absentmindedly leaf through the mail as I step into the house. A personalized envelope with a very familiar name catches my eye. Walking into the kitchen, I throw the rest of the mail onto the counter as I tear open the neatly handwritten one and pull out a card.

  Dear Rebecca,

  We know that you don’t know us, but we wanted to extend our condolences and sorrow for your loss. My husband was driving the other car that was involved in the accident. We are deeply sorry for what has happened and what you have been through. If there is anything you need or anything we can do for you, please reach out to me. We are here for you.

  You’re in our thoughts and prayers.

  Sincerely,

  Erin and Miles Talbott

  The weight of a delicate hand lands on my shoulder, causing me to jump.

  “You should call them,” my mother whispers in my ear. “I’m sure they would love for you to come visit them.”

  Turning around, the weight dissipates from my shoulder and I’m left staring at an empty room. She must be somewhere else in the house because I know she was just here. The flower scent of her perfume hangs in the air.

  Holding onto the card, I move to the other side of the room to our built-in desk and pull the house phone from the wall since my cellphone was destroyed in the crash. I dial the number scribbled on the card and cradle the phone against my ear.

  “Hello?” a woman’s soft voice answers.

  “Hi, is this Erin?” I ask nervously.

  It takes a moment before she answers hesitantly. “Yes, may I ask who’s calling?”

  “Oh!” I exclaim. “I’m so sorry. My name’s Rebecca Thomas. Um,” I pause, letting out a light choking sound. “So, I just got home from the hospital and got your card in the mail,” I say awkwardly.

  She lets out an audible gasp. “Oh, goodness! Rebecca, I’m so glad to hear from you and to know you’re out of the hospital,” she pauses for a moment, clearing her throat. “I am so sorry for your loss, Rebecca.”

  Shaking my head to myself, I smile at her meaningless words. “I appreciate it, but I know that they’re at peace now.”

  “Is there anyone who is staying with you, now that you are home?” she asks gently.

  “No,” I say quietly, letting the word hang in the silence.

  A few moments pass as I listen to her sniffle into the phone before clearing her throat. “Please tell me what we can do for you. I hate thinking about you being there all alone, especially with the holidays,” she says quietly. “We aren’t doing anything or going anywhere for New Year’s since this baby could be coming at any time. Would you want to come over for the evening?” She sounds hopeful as she asks.

  Grabbing a pen from the drawer of the desk, I lazily trace circles on the back of the card.

  “I don’t want to be a burden to the two of you and impose on your night together,” I tell her.

  “Please!” she exclaims. “That’s the last thing you’d be doing. Come spend the evening with us!”

  “If you’re sure,” I say hesitantly.

  “Of course,” she says excitedly. We set a time for me to be there and she gives me her address, which I already knew from the return address on the envelope. We hang up with well wishes, both of us excited for New Year’s Eve.

  Sitting down at the desk, I trace over the numbers and letters of their address until the tip of the pen pokes through the paper. Paying them a visit was all a part of the plan, they just made my job much easier now. Reaching back into my pocket, I retrieve the nurse’s name badge and hold it out in front of me, smiling brightly at the woman’s name.

  Cynthia.

  Silently saying a prayer, I thank her for this gift; the key I need for the next step of the plan.

  “God will reward you greatly for this,” I murmur, stroking the picture of her face as I place it on the desk next to the card. Rising to my feet, I walk upstairs to my bedroom to start my preparations for tomorrow.

  Everything is falling into place, just as God intended.

  Chapter Five

  AT PRECISELY FIVE O’CLOCK in the morning, the alarm clock on my nightstand turns on with a shrill beeping sound. Already wide awake and sitting on the edge of the bed, I lean over and
push the button, turning off the alarm.

  I’ve been up for quite some time now, having already showered and fixed my hair and makeup for the day. Standing up, I walk to my closet to fetch my clothing. After putting on a pair of black dress pants and a simple red blouse, I reach for the white jacket hanging up.

  My white lab coat from medical school.

  Running my fingers up the sleeve, I slowly pull it from the hanger. It was a big deal, finally getting one and I brought it home to show my parents, knowing how proud they would be.

  I never got the chance to show them.

  Shrugging it on, I step in front of the mirror, fixing the collar and smoothing out the wrinkles. With my hair pinned back in a French twist, my dress clothes and my lab coat, I look like I’ve already graduated from medical school.

  “That look truly suits you,” I hear my father’s voice behind me. Looking in the mirror, I see his reflection sitting on the end of my bed, watching me. “Your mother and I are so proud of you, with everything you’ve done and are doing now. You will make an excellent doctor.”

  “Do you think God will still let me become a doctor after this?” I ask him honestly. I’m simply following the plan I’ve been given. Where my life goes after this has yet to be determined.

  A soft feminine laugh comes across the room as I see my mother step behind me. “Sweetie,” she smiles, smoothing my hair back. “God will reward you with anything you want in life. He called you and you answered Him without hesitation. He gave you a job and you’re following through with every part of it. You’re a loyal, devoted servant to Him and there’s nothing He won’t do for you now.”

  My father rises to his feet, walking over to look over my other shoulder. The three of us stand together as a family, staring at each other through the mirror.

  “You need to make sure you’re quick so you don’t get caught,” my father tells me, placing a gentle hand on my shoulder. “There’s no room for error, not now.”

  “Oh hush, Gabriel,” my mother whispers to him before directing her attention back to me. “I believe in you, Becca. I know that you can get this done without a problem.”