Alan was dragged into the God room that night. It was an appropriate name; in it stood the God statue. This was the room Alan would always go and hide in, for he knew that if he was good, God would protect him.
But, he must have been bad lately, because his safe haven had been turning into a punishment room.
He was thrust into the corner. Alan already knew what punishment he was going to get, for he was placed in front of God.
Small crosses lay beside the statue. His papa picked up the first one and immediately slammed it down on his son’s neck.
Alan let out a pained scream and collapsed to his knees, already having trouble catching his breath. His papa crouched down next to him.
“Son, do ya know why Jesus died?”
“For our sins.” Alan rapidly responded, gasping.
“Correct.” Papa admired the cross. “He died ona cross, just like this one. And yet,” He slammed it down on Alan’s neck again, “you keep sinnin’.”
Alan’s head lunged forward but his body kept him in place. He found himself looking up at God’s eyes. They stared back at him.
“Son, do ya know what ya did to deserve this?”
“No.” Alan answered truthfully. The cross came down on his neck yet again.
“Don’ lie in front of God! Don’-!” Papa was going to continue, but stopped, suddenly looking at the statue’s feet.
The force against Alan’s neck had caused him to spit up. Saliva continued to fall out of his mouth, but he didn’t bother to wipe it away, as he too was staring at God’s feet.
“Ya little heathen!” The cross was temporarily put aside in favor of Papa’s hand across Alan’s face. “Look what ya’ve done! I’ve brought ya here to God to be forgiven for your sins, and what do ya do? Ya defile him!”
Alan was horrified. Ignoring his papa, he immediately clasped his hands together and began praying for forgiveness.
That was going to be papa’s next command, but he didn’t like his son doing it on his own. Again claiming the cross as his weapon, Papa raised it above his head to strike, but then was halted by his watch going off. That snapped Alan’s head upward.
He looked at God. The eyes that had been watching him get punished before had now seemed to say, ‘You are forgiven, my child’.
“I need to go find your heathen sister,” Papa declared, tossing the cross aside. “You stay here, and I’ll let God decide what to do with ya.” And with that, he left.
Alan scrambled off his knees, ecstatic about the realization that he was good. He found himself hugging God, giving his thanks for His protection. He then pulled away, ready to pray again, this time for God to not only release his papa from the Devil’s grip, but to protect his sister as well. But, before Alan could start, he froze in horror. Some of the saliva he had not wiped off from before had gotten onto God’s robes. He had again defiled him.
Alan slipped back down to his knees, got back into position and prayed for forgiveness again.