I recently came back from church camp, which helped me to see things a little more clearly. While I was up there, I had mental images floating through my head. Based off of these mental images, I decided to write down and create a story out of them. I do admit, one of the scenes in this story that is towards the end came from my pastor's sermon. After I was done typing it up, I sent it to one of my friend's to see what her opinion was. She told me to post it on fictionpress, and now here it is.

My Liberator

“I'm forgiven because You were forsaken
I'm accepted, You were condemned
I'm alive and well, You’re spirit lives within me
Because You died and rose again.

“Amazing Love, how can it be?
That You, my King, would die for me
Amazing Love, I know it's true
And it's my joy to honor You
In all I do, I honor You”

“You Are My King (Amazing Love)” –Newsboys

Today was the day. I did not desire for this day to come, but I knew it would inevitability would. Time was not something that could stop; it never stopped. Neither did my conscious. Day in and day out, both of them had continued to taunt me up until this moment. I knew that how I had lived was not even close to par. Therefore, I am here, feeling alone and dejected.

I stood and shuffled to the corner of my stall. My shackles dragged against the frosty floor, my feet blistered and numb. Every time I had done something wrong, another chain was added, and I would feel the burden of the weight grow heavier with each day that passed. My cuffs, however, did not grow like my chains. Instead, the cuffs would decrease in size; I could feel the scars on my wrists.

I turned to the small hole that was in the wall, tasting the fresh air. It taunted me, but I deserved it.

I heard others walking around in their stalls, chains scraping against the floor. We were all in our own stalls waiting for our time of execution.

For me, execution was in a matter of moments. My death penalty was going to be carried out today for the horrors that I had done in my life.

“You!” I turned around to see who spat the word. The voice belonged to one of the guards who was banging his club against the metal bars. “It’s your turn!” He sneered.

I dropped my head as my feet scraped their way to the gate.

“Hurry up!” the guard roared as his club hit a bar once more, the noise echoing down the long corridor.

I finally made my way to the gate and waited for the guard to let me out.

Buzz.

My gate flung open, as I gazed up at the guard. He laughed, “Don’t even try to attempt any funny business! Believe me, others have and failed!” He took a bite from an apple, as a piece flung at me, landing on my cheek.

Oh, how I craved food. Any food!

He stared at me, but I did not comprehend why. “Come on, you wretched piece of work!” I did not move just stared at his apple. Out of impatience, he raised his club, producing a painful blow to my already weary body.

The pain was numbing, but then again, I was numb previously. I straightened up my back as best as I could and struggled to move my feet. With this new pain, the chains felt much heavier than before.

The guard led me down the long row where stacks of cages were on top of one another. I could hear the moans and cries of those who longed to be free but were held by their chains.

After what seemed like eternity of scraping down the hall, I saw a black door with the words “Execution Room” written on it.

My hands trembled at the sight. I did not wish to go in.

The guard laughed as he opened the door, pushing me in. I fell onto my knees as I heard the great, metal door slam behind me. As a light began to flicker on, my eyes peered up to face my fate.

In front of me was a wooden cross. My death penalty. My execution.

A person, no, not even a person, twisted around to face me. I knew who he was. He was my executioner. Without letting another second go by, he seemed to glide towards me.

The executioner, whose face was concealed, yanked me off my feet and pulled me closer to the elevated cross.

“No, please!” I yelled as I tried to break free, but the strength of the executioner was far greater then my own. “No!” The pain of being pulled higher and higher while my chains hung from my wrists and ankles was unbearable.

“You knew this was coming. You knew the consequences if you sinned. But you, like many others, continued your treacherous ways. So, you must bear the consequence: death, an eternal death,” the executioner bellowed.

“But I’ve changed. I found the error of my ways!” I screamed.

“But you found them too late.”

He lifted me towards the cross, holding my wrists against the rough wood. He picked up a nail whose tip was jagged and sharp; he aimed for my wrist. Tears began to creep down my face, hoping that he would show some form of mercy.

But as my eyes pleaded with this man whose very presence was full of death, I found no hope.

For one last attempt to stall my doom, I choked through the tears, “But you don’t understand! I talked to a man before I came here. He told me and others that I wouldn’t have to go through this.”

The executioner’s head looked around and mocked, “Does it look like he’s here?”

I leaned my head forward in utter defeat. The nail rose up again and pointed it at my wrists. I could feel the rough point touch my skin.

The door suddenly opened with a boom. Both my executioner and I looked up, and there stood a man who looked like he had endured all sorts of torture. His eyes were weary yet they somehow looked determined. His hands were battered, and he had scars and cuts all over his body. I stared in wonder for this was the man who I spoke earlier about.

My executioner yelled, “What do you want?”

The man walked forward not breaking a stride. “You know what I want. If this person and others will allow me, I will take their place. I will bear all of their burdens, since they themselves will never be capable of working hard enough, even their own deaths will not be close to canceling out their trespasses. Only my blood can cover every single soul.”

He would do what? But how?

The man slowly walked up to where the executioner and I were standing. My executioner asked, “You would bear all of their pain?”

“Yes.”

“You would sacrifice yourself for these worthless creatures?”

“Yes.”

“You would die of absolute torture?”

My tears choked in my eyes as I heard the man ordered, “Yes. Take them down! Now!”

The executioner did just that. My body fell to the icy floor as my executioner pushed me out of the way. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the man step up to the cross as he whispered to the executioner, “Do what you must.”

The executioner lifted the man up onto the cross, and this time the executioner did not hesitate in nailing the man’s right wrist into the wood.

The nail was pierced through his skin. The man, holding back the pain, whispered to himself, “This is for you Jacob.”

Blood began to trickle down his arm.

I yelled, “No!”

The nail was whacked again going deeper into his skin. The man murmured with strain in his voice, “This is for you Emily.”

More blood was sent out of the wound.

My own fists pounded the floor.

Again, the nailed pounded, “Michael.”

Again, “Madison.”

Again, “Joshua.”

The executioner whacked at the nail faster as the nail went deeper. The man winced and held back his tears as he yelled, “Ethan, Isabella, Mathew, Ava, Daniel, Abigail, Christopher, Olivia, Andrew, Hannah, Anthony, Sophia, William, Samantha, Katherine, Nathan, Alejandro, Maria, Pablo, Andrea, Liam, Thomas, Mia, Sarah, Camille…” He continued yelling names as the nail dug through his wrist and into the wood. Since I was so distraught by what was occurring, I did not realize that chains began to form around this man’s legs and arms. The more names he yelled, the more chains that appeared.

After the executioner was satisfied, he moved onto the other wrist. Before he could do any further harm to this innocent man, I screamed, “Stop! Please stop!”

The executioner turned to me and yelled, “What’s done is done!” The man, whose one arm was attached to the cruel cross, nodded to me, signaling me to stop. I did, but my tears began to flow down my cheek even more. I placed my head in between my knees and screamed, not wanting to watch anymore of this.

The executioner pounded another nail into his arm. I could hear the man whispered, “This is for you Jack.” The executioner whacked at the nail again, “This is for you Grace.”

Whack.

“Jessica.”

Whack.

“James.”

The man continued to whisper many other names, some I never even heard of before. The executioner whacked at a much greater speed, and the man continued to say names.

I looked up from my knees, and the executioner was nailing the ankles. The man who was hanging on the cross moaned as his hands began to drag downward from not only his weight, but the weight of the world. The chains began to sink into the ground, while still pulling on the man who was nailed to the cross that seemed to remain stationary. The very room itself seemed to be covered with chains on top of chains on top of chains, every last one of them dragging the man further.

After the executioner was done nailing the man, he stood back and watched the man suffer.

I saw the man attempt to raise himself up, trying to catch a breath. However, his body went back down quickly from weight of all the chains. Then, his body went back up for another breath.

I could no longer take it. “Please… let him go…” I whispered.

“He willingly did this,” the executioner said coldly. He floated out of the room, satisfied with a job well done.

I stood and tried my best to walk to the man who willingly saved my life. My chains scraped against the floor. My shackles clang against one another. I slowly walked up to the man, avoiding his gaze.

“How can… can I… ever repay you?” I stumbled on words.

The man whispered with effort, “Do you believe in me?”

I stuttered, “Of course… You saved my life. Why wouldn’t I?” I could hear my chains trembling.

The man dropped his head, “Many do not, and many more will not.”

“But you just took everyone’s execution! If you knew that some would not even believe you, why bother?” I was mystified.

He pulled his body up to gasp for air. He whispered, “I will still die for them, whether they appreciate it or reject me. But if they believe, they will be free.” He pulled his body back up for air. His chains rustled against one another.

My tears began to start up again.

“If you truly believe, I will set you free,” he looked down at me, his eyes full of compassion.

After he said that, I paused and gazed up at him. Blood was trickling down his badly beaten body.

He’s doing this for me. I cried out, “I believe!”

The man raised his body again for one more last breath. He then whispered, “Then… you are… free.” After he spoke those words, he shouted my name as I realized the significance of it all. Then he whispered, “It is finished…” His body dropped back down. He did not go back up for a final breath.

I looked down at myself. One by one, links of my chains began to shatter. My shackles and cuffs broke open and fell to the floor.

I was free… All my burdens… gone. All I’ve done… forgotten.

I marveled at the sight. My moment was only temporary because when I turned to the man to yell thank you, I no longer saw a man but a lifeless body that now had my chains, my load, attached to him.

The executioner floated back into the room. “You heard Jesus. You’re free…” he said with disappointment in his voice. He floated to the man on the cross and began to rip his body from the cross.

Jesus… that is the name of my liberator. The one who bore my chains, my shame.

I felt my body being pulled upward. Nothing from what I could see was pulling me, but I still floated upward feeling absolutely weightless. I was headed out of this horrible place and to a place where I knew would be better.

I could hear the executioner below snarled, "Jesus! Where are you? I just saw your corpse!"

A voice from behind me said, "Do not pay any attention to him. He and everything else will be a distant memory..."

I looked downward, and there was the man who the executioner cried out for, only this time the man no longer looked weak and tired but strong, exceedingly strong.

Side by side, we soared upward.

I would never forget the man who saved my soul: Jesus, my Savior.