Disclaimer: The opinions expressed herein are those of the author and do not necessarily represent those of clay Magazine or TPS.
As I stared into the darkness, cold sweat on my brow, I wondered if I would ever see light again. One little mistake, and this is where I ended up. A dark cold room with nowhere to go for comfort. No light, no love, nothing. My heart throbbed in my chest. It felt as though it might leap out of my body. The pain was beginning to be overwhelming. I slid down in my chair holding my stomach. When would the pain end?
“Somebody help me,” I whispered.
Silence. It rattled in my head.
“Make it stop. Make it stop!” I yelled.
Still silence and the sharp pain that wouldn’t leave my weary body. I was startled when I realized a burden weighing down my shoulders. All my sin weighed me down so heavily that I couldn’t stand. I couldn’t even sit up without struggling for breath. Oh, why had I done that? I had cheated, lied, stolen, and murdered. I thought following my own path would satisfy me, but it didn’t. It only gave me pain, fear, guilt, and destruction. The weight was too much to bear.
“Somebody help me!” I screamed, tears pouring down my face. I slipped from the chair to the floor, tears pouring down my face onto the cold, dark tile beneath me.
“Mathew,” a calm voice spoke.
“W-what?” I replied, confused. “Who are you? Where are you?”
“I am the way, the truth, and the life,” the man said.
I tried to speak but couldn’t. A small light appeared. I squinted, trying to see where the light was coming from. I saw the shadow of a body with wings.
Jesus. It was Jesus. He had come to help me. Embarrassed, I covered my head with my arms.
“I’m a sinner, Jesus. You are perfect. I have no right to be in your presence,” I sobbed.
“Mathew, I sent my son to die for you and for others like you who have sinned so that you may be in my presence.”
“Jesus, help me!” I screamed, reaching my arms out to Him.
He reached out and touched my hand. Instantly, I could see, and the pain was gone.
“Thank you, God!” I half whispered while I knelt down and clasped my hands together. My life would be different from now on. I would tell others of my experience and try to help them not go down the same road I had. The road of pain, fear, guilt, and destruction.
Meet the Author
How old are you?
I am 15.
Where do you live?
What classes are you taking with TPS?
English 1 Unlikely Heroes
What’s your favorite thing about writing?
I like expressing myself through writing. It’s one of the ways I can get my feelings out. When I wrote this story, I was feeling weighed down by sin, and I needed Jesus. Writing stuff like this not only helps me get my emotions out but also helps me grow closer to God.
Check out more of Kimberly’s writing at her blog! https://kidblog.org/class/caylor7/posts