An Answered Prayer

by Kathy Luder

I sat on the couch with Molly and Drake, happy in a shallow way. The only light was from the fireplace and a few candles on the sofa table behind us. Neither Drake nor Molly made a sound while he rubbed her back and I waited my turn. I knew what I smelling was vanilla, my favorite scent, but for some reason, it was making me queasy. I also knew that I loved Drake, and he loved me, and I should probably be jealous of Molly, but I wasn’t. In fact, I felt a little scared.

Something just wasn’t right. It seemed like we lived with Drake, like he took care of us, but I was sure I’d come from somewhere. He wasn’t my father. Who was my father? Had I always been here?

Somehow Molly seemed more real than Drake. I saw that her eyes were glazed over in bliss, and Drake was softly kissing her neck. Then I remembered something like a dream where we were in a cab in Chicago and Drake was the driver. He seemed like he’d say he was a vampire.

Then the fire blazed and bathed the room in light. It was like the screen flickered and the illusion disappeared. I saw Drake’s teeth and Molly’s open wound. I saw his long jagged nails with bits of flesh and blood as he pulled her apart and buried his head inside her neck, slopping and slurping in a frenzy. Then it was gone, and he was kissing her again.

Molly didn’t move but Drake looked up and smiled, sweet and innocent, comforting. He asked, “Is something wrong?” But now my vision was clearing. I didn’t smell vanilla. I smelled blood and rotting flesh. Drake wiped off his chin and chuckled. I could see that we were in an apartment. Drake was dressed in black. Molly was dead. And I was filled with terror.

I jumped from the couch and ran to the door. Somehow I knew it would be locked and it was. Drake looked completely different now, a monster with yellow eyes and pale, greasy skin. The music was gone, and I could hear traffic in the street below.

Drake leaned back into Molly and said, “I’ll get to you in a minute. It seems that the narcotic has worn off. You must be in good shape, have a high metabolism.” I felt like the walls were closing in on me. I wanted to scream but couldn’t. I wanted to bang on the door, but my arms wouldn’t move. My heart was racing so fast it hurt. I was in a panic and yet was frozen. I used every ounce of willpower and energy to scream and felt my mouth open but no sound would come.

Drake stood up and faced me. He stretched his arms toward me in a menacing gesture and laughed. His hands turned into bloody eagle’s talons bigger than my head and snapped within an inch of my eyes. A stench filled the air like rotten eggs. He leaned close and whispered, “You cannot get away. You are mine.” Then he laughed again and added, “It is better this way. Fear tenderizes the meat, and the narcotic dulls the flavor.”

Then I remembered something else. I was wearing a crucifix around my neck. My grandmother gave it to me at confirmation. Suddenly my arms were free for this, and I grabbed it and pushed it forward toward him. He jumped back instantly and crouched in fear. For an instant, I felt power course through me. I could win. I would be safe. I could beat this vampire.

Then he laughed again, louder this time and angry. He stood up and stepped right into my face. My arms were frozen. “Stupid cow,” he said, snatching the cross out of my hand, snapping the chain. “I am a lord of the night, of evil, and I am hatred in the flesh. I killed your Lord. A piece of metal shaped like that can’t hurt or stop me. Look at your friend. She had one too.” He threw the cross into the fire.

My power was gone. I knew that I was dead. I tried to scream again, but nothing would come out. I couldn’t even cry. My mind was alive with fright, and I somehow knew I could feel pain, but I could not even close my eyes to look away. I saw blood and saliva mixed on Drake‘s lewd mouth. My neck seemed so soft and vulnerable as I felt the cold prick of his teeth on it.

Then I stopping trying to scream or move, and I prayed a silent prayer: “Lord, have mercy. Save me.”

Where I had felt power before, now I felt confidence and peace. Time froze. Drake did not move. And I knew that I would not die but I would live. Drake was wrong. I was not his. I belonged to the Lord. I was baptized. And I found my voice, but I did not scream. I simply said, “The metal may not stop you, but Who it represents will and does. My Lord died for me. You did not kill Him. He laid down His life. I am His. And He is not dead. He lives, and so will I.”

Then Drake was gone. I sat up in bed, my heart racing. I was in bed! It was a nightmare. I turned on the light and picked up the crucifix off the Bible on my night stand. Then I knew it was not real, but I still felt scared. I was up for a long time and read randomly in my Bible. Eventually I calmed down. Just before I fell back asleep, I prayed, “Thank you, Lord. I know it wasn’t real, but You are. Even when I am caught in my own fear, you hear my prayers. Even in my dreams you hear my prayers. Now please let me sleep. And keep me safe even there. In Jesus’ Name. Amen.”

Kathy Luder likes garlic in lasagna and the Gospel for chasing the devil away.