2 minute read
The Savior
By Ayden Patiño and Eliza Avendaño
The snow covered the windows. I was freezing. There was no fire tonight. That thing was outside. I decided to keep warm and wrap myself in a blanket.
I feared it might hear me. I decided to check if it was still out there lurking in the snow. I opened the door to the cabin. The blast of the freezing wind was so intense that I had to cover my face and hold the door tight to keep it from flying out of my hand.
I saw it.
It was five feet away from me staring, just standing there. I slowly closed the door in hopes it did not see me clearly through the heavy snow. I tried to call the forest service. No answer.
I walked back to my room and prayed that I was not its prey. I heard its heavy steps in the snow. There was a tapping on the window. I froze in fear. Don't open the window. Don't speak of it. Pray for your savior. It tapped on the window again. It knows I'm here. I ran to hide in my closet. I started praying, repeating the sermons I so gloriously memorized. There was a shatter of glass which made me scream. The window. Heavy footsteps through the room. It was outside the door. Breathing.
I gasped as the closet doors swung open. Darkness. I could hear it, but I couldn’t see it. Don't speak of it. I could not speak. Pray for your savior. It is my savior.
As it grabbed my arm with its thin yet strong coal-black arms, I was relieved. It clawed at my leg. I screamed in joy, “My savior is here! He's here!” It ripped my eyes out. I couldn’t help but laugh!
Lastly, it ripped out my jugular with its holy claws. It finally let me go. I laid there, limbs torn and half eaten.
I am grateful for my savior! My savior!
The snow has covered the windows and is blowing throughout the house. All I know now is the frozen blood beneath me, grateful for my savior.
