Titan

Timothy is a 460 lb. man who makes his living allowing people to watch his house via webcams as he lives his daily life. We meet him after the death of his mother as he deals with the life he has created for himself while attempting to honor the wishes of his mothers death.

‘It is just too easy to give up on you here!’ I imagine yelling out before this emptiness, my actions echoing in my mind, my blood covered hands fall at my feet as they had the night He left me for good and I became the man I am today. I feel so alone yet I know I am not, a small man in a black suit stands waiting in the doors of the aisle, he has been waiting, watching me repent, but I am not done. I look toward the alter anywhere but the white collar and graying black hair. I look toward His image, the same cross I should bare for taking granted the moments I had. My enormous knees pressing down hard on the pew bench have begun to ache; I know what I have done. I bow lower to feel his presence. Nothing. The large man in the tiny body has grown closer, the distance behind us closing in.

The tears still falling as he approaches “He has not given up” a voice caught in my ears reminding me He has left, reverberating my mind, his hand burning my shoulder. I look up to find a man compactly pale, lost in my shadow, his hands long and slender stroking my hair.

I remember her tiny fingers, so delicate and long wafting through my dark mane of hair as a child, her voice soothing my tears, she too has left and I cannot wash from my hands the blood I spilt. “Father? I am not safe, I am the cause and He has decided my fate” I have never been a religious man but the sensitivity of wood against my legs has always reminded me of her so I have stayed here long after the rest had left in attempt to learn more.

“No, you want him to punish you for His verdict, that is not how the Father works. You want to feel pain; you must only imagine his suffering so you may feel his love. Allow him to lift you.” His hands bracing my colossal weight with little effort, he lifts me to my feet. My skin still bare and raw is elevated and the blood rushes back to my knees.

I have been here for hours now without stop the tears have fallen but now the floodgates are open and more tears then I could ever imagine rush to freedom. The watercourse flows raging river rapids over my sizeable cheeks, falling along my ears and snaking through the cracks to pool along my collar and blurring his image. He is almost ghostlike now, his tiny frame and gentle disposition nothing in comparison to the grand presence and booming intonation behind her eulogy.

“It is times like these I think you knew her better than anyone” I can not stop the tears “Why did she shut me out?”

“Your mother was a kind and generous women Timothy and I believe if you tried you too could learn her truths as well. She was not as private a woman as she appeared. She wanted you in her life.”

“She didn’t even tell me”

“Deep down she knew you would never allow it. You would never believe it until it happened. She was strong Timothy, just not strong enough to fight you for this.”

“Why? I was there!” Anger has never come easily but now the heat rises and my body begins to feel the strain “I had her in my arms, I could have helped and she could have allowed me to have this.”

“Mothers protect their children” Petting my damp shoulder he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a rosary “She would want you to have this”

“No!” I throw the strand of beads to the floor and listen to the familiar echo of their music as they roll to a stop. “I do not want your bloody beads”

“she told me you would reject her wishes, but she was very firm in this” the Father bends down clinking the rosary into a ball “She wishes you to take these, and she wishes for you to return them to her.”

“What?”

“She has also request a burial by fire and for her ashes to be scattered in the place of happiness.” The priest places the ball of beds into my hand; I close my fingers tightly around his and feel the presence of the black magic. “She told me you would know what to do, so tonight I have arranged for the final viewing and you may pick up the ashes in the morning.” Just like that he pats my hand and walks toward the doorway.

“Wait!”

He turns blankly awaiting my response.

“I don’t know”

“If you try hard you too could learn her truths, she loved you very dearly just remember the time you shared.” He turned and walked out the door. I am again left to mourn alone but this time no eyes will watch me as I turn my prayers inward and ask Him for forgiveness for what I have done.

The End

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