What He Found in the Church That Day

Chapter One

I've been many places in my life, but I never thought I would be in Hell. Yet, here I am, in the living room with two police officers who have just informed me about the death of my mother.

The tan one asked me if I knew anyone who could possibly want to hurt her. Have they looked into her past? Everyone and their dog would like to get their hands on my mom.

"No one I can think of," I sighed, looking up at them exhaustedly. My mother was a real b***h, but I truly did love her to pieces. My brother, though, is the one who put her in pieces more times than not, so after steering the officers his way, I went into my kitchen to pour some whiskey. I'm not a man who drinks, and I don't remember buying it, but it was there, so what the hell?

Shock and guilt, anger and sadness, those would all come later. I wasn't even in denial and I sat there, staring at my recognizing that. Or maybe I just couldn't believe how brutal it was.

"I don't wanna be known for nothing'," she used to tell me in that thick southern accent. "I wanna live my life and get on with as little limelight as possible, you hear?" She would tell my brother and I. Well, sorry mama, but it seems like you're everywhere right now.

The headline reading Widow and Mother of Two Brutally Murdered In Yak Lake on the news this morning, I assume, wouldn't fit her distaste for 'the limelight.'

Her throat was slit and she was stabbed so, so many times that it had to be personal, I know it. My mother never told my brother and I about her affairs, but we did know that whatever she was doing was dangerous.

But, then again, it meant that we got the newest gaming station and pets whenever we wanted, so we couldn't complain much.

I sat back, finishing my whole glass in two big gulps. It tasted disgusting.

I sat the glass aside, looking at my hands. This place felt so empty. Sure, I had the basic furnitures, a couch, a bed, a kitchen and everything else needed to live, but I rarely ever stayed here. I have memories everywhere in the world. Beautiful women I've met, unforgettable people in bars and oh the children I've seen. Maybe..

Maybe it was time for me to stay home for a little while.

I went to my (un)familiar room. Surrealism was all that filled the air around me. I was in a daze, watching my hands move through the air. These are my hands, and this background is my bedroom in my house in this world.

This world. My hands are still moving, huh?

I dropped them to my sides, taking in everything. The air was nothing special. There was no aroma, there were no birds and no poetic cracks in the wall. Everything was clean and neat just as it should be.

I laid down in the bed, feeling even more odd since I haven't taken my shoes off. Such an uncomfortable sensation, but I don't really care to change it. There was a cross hanging above the dresser that my eyes had fixated on as I spaced out.

When Rob, my younger brother, and I were young, we were raised to go to church every Wednesday and Sunday and read The Bible every night before bed, but then my dad died and my mother cared less and less and started seeing new men every weekend, so I've never been very religious.

Maybe, though, I could find comfort and praying for whatever soul is left there, right? Maybe she'll get into some Heaven of her own.

I know a really small church right after the corner. It's old and worn, the black wood chipping, and the railing on the front entrance rusty. It was perfect. It had seen so much, it was so beautiful. I've admired it for years, and it hasn't changed since I was a child, but since that wasn't the church I went to, I never saw anyone there. It wasn't even on the route to my own church, so I could never pass it to know.

I climbed off of the bed, standing and stretching, my curiosity peaking. I never had been there, so why not now? I might as well pray for my mother’s soul while I was there. Better to do it in a church than in front of a little cross, right? I sighed out gently, making sure my phone was in my pocket, heading out and down the stark white stairs to the living room I had just left, grabbing my wallet from the coffee table and heading over to the kitchen to grab my keys from the counter. I opened the fridge. There was nothing inside. I didn’t expect anything, but hey, who’s gonna deny the impulse to look?

I gave a small sigh through my nose as I struggled to get the key into the the lock for a few moments before finally getting it. I was mega thirsty all of the sudden, so with a large sigh, I struggled for a few moments more before getting the door unlocked. I walked inside and leaned against the counter, thinking about how much I wanted a puppy. Maybe a Chow Chow or Great Dane. I had the money enough to own one. But, then again, I thought as I chugged half a cup of water without realizing how much I was actually drinking, I wouldn’t really want to deal with cleaning messes or anything like that. Plus, I despised shedding.

I sat the empty cup aside, walking out and decided to lock the door from the inside and just shut it. Much faster and much, much easier. I put my keys in my pocket and rechecked for everything. Wallet. Phone. Keys. Keys, phone wallet. Everything was there, why did I feel like I was forgetting something? Wait, what about my- no my phone is there.

I shook my head and walked down the small steps, heading down the narrow sidewalk. I looked at the few faces I passed, looking like the way one would if they had stayed in one place for too long. Drained, almost grey. I saw two girls and they both looked like they had thin hair. This was the type of thing a dull, small town did to you. You got up, did chores, took care of your children or siblings (or both), and then on Sundays you went to church. I had learned very quickly just how boring that could really be. Soon, though, after I started attending less and less every Sunday, no one really cared about me. This was the kind of small town where if you didn’t praise like your life depended on it, you might as well not have a life at all.

I rounded the corner and finally saw the church. It was much smaller and much more narrow than I had originally thought I remembered it to be, but it fit in with the city. Small, dark and too thin to be healthy. I opened the door and stepped inside, looking around. This was one of the places where it was a lot bigger on the inside than it looked on the outside, but, again, that was most places in this town.

I looked for a place to sit and about midway down the aisle, I seated myself on the end of a pew. It smelled like coffee and books, the odd kind of smell that seemed to reside in every church. I bowed my head, resting my elbows on the pew in front of me, pressing my hands together and lacing my fingers. I studied the ground for a few moments before closing my eyes and whispering softly.

“Hey uh,” I started, unsure really of what I should say. “I know that I might not be the best person, but my mom still means a lot to me. I don’t know if you’re listening, but if you are, could you maybe help my mom find her way up to you?” I asked, unsure. I hadn’t noticed it at first, but it was growing a lot colder. I didn’t want to look up though. I could hear whirring, so it was most likely the air conditioning. “My mother never really stayed on a specific path that I knew of, but I wish for her to find yours so she can have a better life than the one she had to endure here.” I breathed out. My lungs felt tighter. I could feel the tears welling. I shook a bit, sniffing. “I don’t know if you’d listen to a lowlife like me, but uh,” I said, shaking more.

I lifted, my head, realizing that it wasn’t me shaking, but it was the ground. And God, it got cold. I opened my eyes and couldn't believe what I saw. It was snowing and everything was white. I looked around the spaces around my body were all dry as if I were in some kind of bubble. I must have fallen asleep. I tried to wake up,but nothing happened. I pinched myself, and I felt it.

No.

I can't be awake. I mean, I have to be hallucinating then. I got up, wondering if that whiskey or water had a bit too much of something special in it. I laid my hand in the snow beside me and it was ice cold. If this wasn’t real, then how did I feel this wetness? How is my hand making itself so cold? The shaking got worse and I stood quickly. What the actual f**k? I looked around and as I breathed in, the cold air burned my lungs.

I stood up and as I did, my view changed. There was now a snowy woods in front of me and the rows of pews seemed to go on endlessly. How?

I took a step forward and heard my feet crunching in the snow, and soon I was running. Trying to make my way past, But the outstretch of woods never ceased and the trees all around the pews kept shifting and changing and I felt so alone.

I stopped, looking around bewildered. Why did I feel so alone? Sure, it might have been just me there, but that’s how it’s been for most all of my life. I looked and saw someone sitting at a pew in the far distance, so I started running again, not looking at how the space between the trees became less and less, or how the darkness between them became more dense. I ran faster as I saw the figure becoming closer. I stopped. It was a girl. She couldn’t have been older than six or seven.

“Little girl,” I gasped out. “How,” I paused, trying to collect my thoughts. “What is this?” I asked, looking to her. She wore a white, frilly dress with shiny black shoes and her short, coily black hair was pulled back with a pink ribbon. The snow avoided her body as well where she sat.

“Don’t you know that it’s rude to be so loud in church? During service especially,” she said, turning to me. She had glasses with green frames and grey-blue eyes that held a kind of fire in them. Not a sassy or rude kind, but the kind that looked like if she wanted something badly enough, she would work her whole life away to get whatever it was. I admired her quickly, crouching down and was getting ready to whisper to her as well before another voice-- a more mature voice cut in.

“Now, Charlotte, you know to have manners,” it said gently and I looked up. Suddenly, there was another lady beside her, putting her hand on the girl named Charlotte's lap in the warning way that a mother would do when her daughter says something just a tad out of line that would make her image suffer even the smallest bit. I gave a small smile and whispered to the girl. “Look around, tell me what you see.” I said, not really caring if I sounded crazy for such an out-of-the-blue request. She looked at me like it was a crazy request too and opened her mouth a bit as if to say something, but her eyes shifted, as if she knew what he older lady beside her would say.

She looked around. “Well, there’s the pew’s and the people in them, and the walls,” she said, her voice fading off as she looked around quickly, her eyes growing wider. My heart stopped. I only wished that she wasn’t seeing what I was seeing. “S..” She sharted slowly. “Snow. And trees. And my aunt- no,” She looked harder. “My auntie is gone. Sir, where are we? Sir,” She started, tears welling up in her eyes, just breaking my heart to bits. “Sir I don't want to be here,” She cried and shivered. “Sir I want to go home.” She sobbed.

I looked over her pour soul. I wanted to go home too. Her poor little body could never withstand this cold, especially in a dress that was sleeveless. I took off my sweatshirt and looked at her, feeling the chill against the back of my neck, thanking God that I had decided to where my thermal today. I asked her to lift up her arms and I put the sweater on her when she did. I patted her head as she gave me many thanks through her sniffles and moans. I picked her up and sat in the place she was in a moment ago, cradling her in my lap and letting her cry. I sung softly to her as she cried, and eventually she calmed down and looked at me. “What should I call you, Sir?” She sniffled.

“Lucas,” I said to her, petting her head softly. She broke my heart when she laid her head on my chest and repeated it softly. I sat there in the cold with her, trying to give her as much of my on heat as I could as I felt the snow soaking through my pants and gradually making my my thighs more and more wet. She looked up to me with her adorable face and puffy eyes. “Lucas, can we please leave here?” She asked softly. I nodded although I had no clue exactly how to get out. I stood with her, walking back in the direction I came, my feet crunching once more. I caught a glance down at the ground and saw that the shoe prints I made earlier weren’t there any longer, when suddenly, a thought hit me. She was there. I had run for a while to get her and pick her up. I felt her shuddered breath against my chest like a child does after they get done sobbing their heart out. If she was there, were there others?

Even if there were, I couldn’t risk letting her be in the cold for too long to try and find them. I breathed a bit harder, the cold starting to burn my lungs once more. She clung to me and with how quiet she was, it seemed like she was drifting off, but I knew better than that since it was so effing cold around us.

I sniffed. My nose was starting to run. I sighed, and looked at her. “I’m about to run, okay?” I asked and felt her nod, so I leaned by body forward a bit and pushed off, never letting my heels touch the ground. My thighs burned, but I kept on. I wanted to get her out of this cold as soon as i could. She was curled up in my arms, so the cold was hitting her side opposed to her whole backside. I sighed and eventually stopped. I looked down at her and saw the breath coming from her in front of her dark face. She was so precious and I had such an overwhelming desire to protect her from the world and all of the horror in it as if she had been my own baby girl.

“Charlotte, how old are you?” I asked, looking down at her as I walked. Her puffy eyes met mine and she coughed into her elbow a bit. “I’m six years old, Sir.” She said softly, looking tired. “Well, do you know how long you’ve been in here?” I asked, starting to pet her once more. “I’m afraid not,” she said in a small, defeated voice. She sounded like she was talking to herself more than she was talking to me.

Just as my legs were starting to get tired as I walked with her in my arms, she leaned up and whispered in my ear, “There is no God here,” and like that, we both fell to the floor.

When I opened my eyes, I was laying in the back of the church, and when I sat up, I saw Charlotte there across the room. I ran to her quickly and frantically shook her. She was still in my sweatshirt. As her eyes fluttered open sweetly, she gave me the kind of smile you give to someone you lost contact with many years ago, but that still meant the world to you. She meant the world to me.

“Hello Sir,” she said sleepily, sitting up against my chest. “Charlotte, where are your parents?” I asked softly, petting her hair gently. “My momma and daddy died when I was jus’ one,” she yawned out. “And my auntie lived with me, but she left me here,” she paused, recollecting on her thoughts and memories. What a harsh life this kid must have had to go through. I picked her up. “Do you remember what just happened to us?” I asked her, not sure if I was ready to walk out of the church doors despite everything that had just happened.

She nodded her head. “I remember.” She gave a small, exhausted sigh. “I remember how very, very cold it was too,” she gave another nod to me, with her piercing round eyes. I gave a small nod in return. “Good, now you don’t tell anyone about what we went through or else something bad might happen,” I said to her in more weariness of any attention being drawn to her at all, rather than fear of something bad happening to us in case the words slipped.

I finally walked out the door with her in my arms, and everything was the same. Dull, bland, quiet. The whole town might as well have been painted grey. Charlotte didn’t belong here. Not against this backdrop. Not with these kids. I wanted to take her away, and that’s exactly what I would do. As I walked her around the corner and back to my house, I was already planning in my mind just how the d=next few days would play out. I would get her clothes, and then we would leave. I was a smart man, I knew that. I could teach her myself, and I would guess that she was a smart little girl.

When we finally reached my house, I sat her down and fumbled with the key before she took it from my hand in a gentle manner, easily opening up the door and walking in. I’d have to use her steady hands for a lot of things if she was that impatient. I walked in behind her, closing the door. As soon as I took in the house, I saw her sitting sweetly on the edge of the house, as if she were to scared to go anywhere else. “Make yourself at home,” I said to her, coming up behind her and patting her head. “We won’t be here long.” I told her, soon after explaining the plan for leaving the town by the next morning. Neither of us had anything here.

She slept on my chest that night, but I didn’t sleep at all, thinking about all that had happened that day. It was pure insanity. I never believed in the paranormal or anything, and I don’t even know if that’s what you would call it. I stared at the ceiling, wondering if there were more little boys and girls, or men and women stuck in whatever that place I was sent to was. I couldn’t bare the thought of their should just wasting away there, with nothing but empty memories and illusions of some church. I took a deep breath in as I sat there, thinking of all of the many possibilities of what I left behind to ge this little girl out of that bastardly cold and she stirred on my chest. I laid my hand on her back.

I have never known a greater sense to protect something more than I have with her. I want to make sure that nothing happens to this baby girl. I want to make sure that she is safe away from all things and that she will never shed another tear like she did earlier in her life. I turned my head and looked to the stars, wondering just how many lost souls had yet to be saved like hers was that day.

The next day, Charlotte had woken up earlier, and I was glad to see her merry little smile as she jumped around on the bed. She slept in her dress and my sweatshirt, and I couldn’t imagine that being comfortable, but I had no spare clothes to give her. Which means that I had no spare clothes at all. I doubt she would have taken them anyways, because she insisted on sleeping in the dress if we were just going to leave first thing in the morning (“I’d like to save myself the extra trouble of having to get re-dressed”).

She got in the back seat of my car and buckled herself in and I follow suite in the driver’s seat. First thing, I headed to the closest clothing shop and we got her a suitcase and enough clothes and books to fill the whole thing up. Then We started driving. We drove back to my small house in the next state, and by the time we arrived, it was night and she was sound asleep. I debated on giving her her own room, but was still too scared of something stray from another world hurting her while she wasn't with me, so I decided against it.

I picked her and the suitcase up and she moved around, half asleep. I undressed her and put my sweatshirt back on her so I could wash the dress. I threw it in the washer, sighing softly. I was beat. I grabbed my own clothes and got dressed, laying in the bed with her. I felt like the next state wasn’t far enough.

The next day, Charlotte insisted on going on a walk with me through the town. It was quite nice to see her skipping along, holding my hand and talking about all of the things she liked. Cats and ponies were that day’s subject. I smiled, telling her about the different kinds of cats and then the different kinds of horses and the work that they’re used for. She nodded and listened closely, staring at the ground intently and I could tell that she was trying to absorb every word.

Soon, these walks became a regular thing for us. Every morning we would walk around. I got to know the town better, she got to know odd facts about different things, and it was great to talk to her. She could carry a conversation with me as if she were an adult (provided that we weren’t talking about something she knows very little about). As I held her hand, she spotted something that seemed to catch her eye. “Look!” she called happily and pointed to a little black building. “That looks like the church you got me from!” She cheered and pulled me along.

I hesitated as I walked with her. Did I want to let her in there? Why was a place so similar planted here? That place looked identical to the church in my hometown and after what happened..

But then again, I regard her as one of the, if not the best thing that ever happened to me, so what the hell? I walked up the steps with her, and we walked through.

I held my breath for many moments, expecting some force to sweep her away from me, but nothing happened. I exhaled heavily and she let go of my hand, running forward. “Oh isn’t it just the best thing?” she exclaimed, looking at me with a beautiful twinkle in her eyes. God how I loved those eyes.

We were the only people in the church at the time since it was a Thursday and everyone else was either at a job or in school. She looked down at the floor and her face sunk.

I looked over to see if I could find what she was seeing, hopefully it wasn’t a rat. I could deal with bugs and spiders, but rats? No.

“Lucas,” she said, her voice shaking. She looked up at me with horror in her eyes.

“Hey,” I said, trying to coax her to walk to me. “Come here, don’t worry about it. It won’t hurt you.” I smiled.

She looked up at me with an expression of confusion and worry. Those eyes didn’t look like they belonged to an almost seven year old girl. I took a step forward and she screamed. “Hey, hey, hey,” I said softly, trying to calm her down as she started tearing up. “There’s nothing there, you can come to me,” I coped with a soft smile, getting down on my knees. I held my arms out for her to run to and hug me, but she looked even more confused and opened her mouth as if to ask what was wrong with me, but her expression changed.

She bent at the hips a bit and looked me in the eyes. “Look around and tell me what you see,” she said in a voice that was very obviously scared but wanted to sound calm. I looked around. “Well there are the bells there, the pews and the Bibles in the back of them,” I nodded at her, but then it started fading to white. There was us, but standing on ice. Snow surrounded the trees past the pews that went on endlessly. “I thought it was over,” I whispered, not believing what was in front of me, or more importantly, what was in front of Charlotte. The ice under her feet was cracking.

I took a shaky breath in. “Charlotte. Walk very slowly and come to me,” I said. She knew now that I saw it too. She started to move toward me and the ice groaned and cracked under her feet. I held my breath as she moved forward slowly, shuffling along, but the shuffling is what made her misstep and she slipped. I saw the fear in her eyes as she started to fall back. I lunged forward and grabbed her, and like that, I fell through with her in my arms.