Vanished: In The Blink of An Eye (a modern Left Behind series fanfic #1)

jasmine tarkheena

jasmine tarkheena

Active member
Well, here is a start of a fanfic series. I may have to break one chapter into different parts in different posts, so just bear with me. I do not own any rights to the original Left Behind series, nor do I claim any ownership. I only own my original characters and new settings. All rights belong to Jerry B. Jenkins and Tim LaHaye (the authors of the original Left Behind series) and Tyndale Publishing. Please note: though I am well aware you might have your opinion on eschatology (the study of end times), this is NOT for discussion on theological debate. Thank you.

Chapter 1 (part 1)

*****
Carl Burton, a Welshman, worked for Global Weekly Chicago office as an editorial assistant. Physical copies of the news magazine were still distributed, but the company had long ago embraced the digital age with a strong online presence. Their main headquarters was in New York City, but Carl worked in the Chicago office.

He had moved to the States where he studied at Princeton University with a degree in Journalism. While there, he met and married his wife Donna, originally from North Dakota, and their first child Robert was born during Carl’s junior year. Two years later, Oliver was born during Donna’s junior year. After she graduated, Carl was offered a job at Global Weekly, so they moved to Mount Prospect. 4 other children followed, Elain, Samuel, Aneurin, and Mary. Donna mostly worked from home with real estate realtor, going out only to meet with clients who are either selling their house or meeting those buying a house to give a tour.

The family attended the New Hope Village Church, a non-denominational church in Mount Prospect. Vernon Billings had built a small but growing congregation that had to have two morning services—not because they were so huge but rather because their sanctuary was so small—and he was respected by the congregation. He never failed to acknowledge those who helped out. Most of all, though, he always began by praying that he would say what God wanted him to say and that the people would hear what God wanted them to hear. While preaching, his focus was always on Jesus, and he clearly revered the Bible.

Carl not only attended every Sunday, but he also attended the Men’s Bible Study at Pastor Billing’s house and the Men’s pancake breakfast once a month on Saturday mornings. Donna was equally involved and attended a Women’s Bible Study and even volunteered in helping in the primary girls Sunday School class during the first service.

“Someday Jesus will return to take his followers to heaven”, Pastor Billings said in church one Sunday, “Those who have received Him will disappear in the time it takes to blink your eye. We will disappear right in front of disbelieving people. Won’t that be a great day for us and a horrifying one for them?”

He talked about how important it was for everyone to be sure of his own standing before God and to think and pray about friends and loved ones who might not be ready.

As Carl was getting ready to clock out, he thought of his own children. He was grateful that even though Oliver and Elain were now both off to secular colleges in Chicago, they hadn’t left their faith, and would spend the weekend at home to attend New Hope Village Church on Sunday. Samuel was a senior in high school and he had not lost his faith either, being active in church youth group at New Hope Village Church and the YMCA basketball league. Yet in the midst of all that, there was Robert’s cynicism, Aneurin’s rebellion, and Mary’s insecurity that weighed heavily on Carl’s mind.

Then there was also Carl’s 30 year old brother, Dirk, who was 12-13 years younger. He was a fun loving uncle, even at a young age. When Mary was a year old, Dirk studied at Princeton University with a degree in international finances. It was at Princeton University where Dirk met and befriended Cameron “Buck” Williams, who had been with Global Weekly as the youngest senior writer. He had already written more than thirty cover stories, including three Newsmaker of the Year pieces. He earned the nickname “Buck” because he was known to buck journalistic traditions. Buck worked for the New York City office, but he had visited the Chicago office, where Carl had met him. He was actually impressed with Buck’s reports, yet “bucking” journalism seemed unprofessional.

Since graduation, Dirk had been working for the London Stock Exchange, and had been informant for both Carl and Buck. Recently, Dirk’s new specialty had been in researching conspiracy theories. Carl had to admit he was actually proud to have his brother as an informant yet he was concerned Dirk was delving into dangerous territories.

Carl worked in the Chicago office, though he had gone to the Global Weekly headquarters in New York City a few times to assist senior editor Steve Plank with editorials. The New York City staff consisted of senior editor Steve Plank, his secretary Marge Potter, publisher Stanton Bailey, financial editor Barbara Donahue, religious editor Jim Borland, chief of the international politics Juan Ortiz, senior writer Buck Williams, and a few others. The Chicago office staff consisted of bureau chief Lucinda Washington, her secretary Verna Zee, editorial assistant Carl Burton, Alice Nelson, and a few others.

Carl was grateful to have Lucinda Washington, a 50ish Negro woman and a strong Christian like he was, as his supervisor. She had previously been a reporter for the magazine and lived in the inner city of Chicago. When she was promoted to bureau chief, she, her husband Charles, who worked as a heavy equipment operator, and their four children, 9 year old Clarice, 6 year old Lionel moved, and 3 year old Ronnie, and baby Luci, moved to Mount Prospect. They lived in the same township as the Burtons. Now Clarice was 16, Lionel was 13, Ronnie was 9, and Luci was 6. As Samuel and Aneurin both attended Prospect High, Clarice was in the grade between them, and rode the same bus. Lionel was in the same grade as Mary, and they even shared a seat on the bus. Ronnie and Luci were both still in elementary school, attending Fairview Elementary School.

“Ah, Carl, you’d heard we’re expecting a big story file from London tomorrow”, Lucinda said when she saw Carl at her door.

“Yes, I did. Cameron’s going to see my brother Dirk there. My son is one of the three pilots on that flight ”, Carl replied, leaning against the doorframe.

“Ah, yes. You must be proud of your son, Carl, being assigned to such a high-profile flight. And what about your brother? Does he know the LORD?”

“Unfortunately, no. I’d talk with him a few times about my faith, but he dismisses it as ‘religious superstition’, especially after he began researching conspiracy theories."

Lucinda nodded in understanding, her thoughts drifting to her own brother, André Dupree—the bad apple of the family. He had been a drunk and known to use and abuse drugs. He’d been in and out of jail and even spent a short term at the Stateville Penitentiary in Joliet before it was closed down. Despite his struggles, André had a charming side. When sober, free of trouble, and working, everyone adored him—funny, lively, and easy to be around. But when he was “sick,” as the family called it—meaning he was using drugs, drinking heavily, or running with the wrong crowd—they all grew anxious, prayed for him, and desperately tried to bring him back to church. Carl knew that André was Lucinda’s deepest concern, just as Dirk was his own.

“We’ll be praying for our loved ones, Carl. Prayer's our strongest weapon”, Lucinda said softly, her eyes drifting to the framed photo of Charles and the kids on her desk.

Carl nodded. “Well, I just clocked out, and I’ll be heading home. See you in the morning?”, he asked, straightening up. His mind drifted to the evening commute—the familiar hum of traffic on I-290 stretching toward Mt. Prospect—and he wondered what chaos awaited him tonight.
 
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Chapter 1 (part 2)

****
Ashton Cleaver, a cop in the Chicago Police Department, was a tall man with brown hair that he kept neatly trimmed and brown eyes. Although only 25 years old, Ashton already had the hardened look of someone who had seen too much too soon. His older brother Ron and older sister Edwina, and even younger sister Lauren, and himself weren’t raised in church and only attended at Christmas and Easter, and even then only when his mother was able to drag them there. Then all his siblings became Christians, and started going to church regularly. Ron worked for the Chicago Tribune, and his wife Sylvia was a homemaker who homeschooled their children due to the gender ideology being forced onto students in public schools. Edwina was married to Michael, a firefighter, and they attended church as well, and she homeschooled the children as well, for the same reasons. Lauren was single, but she attended church with her siblings and nephews and nieces. Though Ashton enjoyed doting on his nieces and nephews, he wasn’t convinced by their faith. He would attend church on Christmas and Easter with his roommate Gavin, who was also with the police department, and was a Christian. Yet, the thought of the Rapture had never truly stuck with Ashton.

"Just think of it", said Gavin, "Jesus coming back to take us to Heaven."

"You really believe that stuff?", asked Ashton, "And how is that you got religion?"

"It's not a religion, Ashton. It's a personal relationship with Jesus..."

"Right. But why talk me into getting saved?"

"You know that I can't make that decision for you. But I believe in what the Bible teaches, and I've seen it change lives. It's something you've gotta experience for yourself."

At times, on the weekends, Gavin invited Ashton to church in the Chicago area. When the pastor talked about the Rapture of the Church, Ashton felt a knot in his stomach. The words of the pastor echoed in his mind as he drove through the streets of Chicago.

One of the other officers who worked near him, Sergeant Tom Fogarty, who was husky with thick, wavy blond hair, wasn’t religious either. He didn’t grow up in church except for Christmas and Easter. He had previously been married to Jeanni and they had two children Gideon and Myrtle. Because of her Christian faith and his job, they divorced, and Gideon and Myrtle lived with their mother, and Tom only saw them on the weekend. He married Josey, a woman of average height, trim, with pale blue eyes, her face pale and cutely freckled, and sandy blond hair, who had previously been married to Steve and had two boys Ben and Brad. They divorced because she had always been curious about God, and I tried all kinds of religions and belief systems, and Steve left her for someone else. Even though he was living with another woman long before they were divorced, he got custody of Ben and Brad. She couldn’t keep him from moving out of state, and she’s been able to see the boys only about one week-end a month for more than two years. Steve’s current wife left him recently, so had just been him and the boys in Missouri. Then she married Tom, though they didn’t have any children together. Ashton had met Josey at a law enforcement gala, and told Tom that she was cute. Tom smiled, and added that she was also smart and funny.

“You know Tom, if your two kids and Josey’s two boys all live with you, wouldn’t that be like the Brady Bunch?”, Ashton asked, glancing at Tom through the rearview mirror as he pulled into the precinct parking lot.

Tom chuckled. “You mean where the father had three boys, and the mother had three girls, and they all lived together? Yeah, except Josey’s boys are in Missouri, and mine are with their mom. It would be hard enough blending households without half the cast missing.”

Then there was another officer, a young homicide detective, even though he was older than Ashton, with blond hair and wore his side arm in a shoulder holster, named Archibald “Eddie” Edwards. Although Eddie wasn’t religious either, he had often heard some other guys in the department, including Gavin, who often talked about God and the Bible. Even though Ashton wasn’t with homicide, Eddie and Ashton had worked together on a few cases. Eddie actually liked Ashton, and even saw potential in him as a future homicide detective. On the weekends, Eddie and Ashton often went out for coffee and donuts, then play darts at a local pub.

Another homicide detective named Cole, who was also not religious, was often seen with Eddie, discussing the cases. Cole was not much older than Eddie, and was tall, dark-haired, and had piercing green eyes. He was known for his dry wit and sharp instincts—traits Ashton admired.

“A lot of murder in Chicago. It’s like a plague.” Ashton murmured to Eddie as they stepped out of the station, the cold wind whipping through the streets.

“You got that right, Cleaver. You remember the famous Stateville Penitentiary in the town of Joliet, right?” Eddie’s voice was grim as they walked towards their vehicles.

Ashton nodded. “Yeah. That closed down, didn’t it?”

“Yeah, it did, and it has become a tourist attraction. It might not be as famous as Alcatraz in San Francisco, but it sure had its share of notorious inmates," Eddie said as they approached their vehicles. "But what's worse than the past crimes is the darkness we face every day on these streets."

Ashton knew Eddie was right. He had help protect the city and keep law and order, but the crime never seemed to cease.

Ashton was asked to work late shift at the Chicago police department that night, which was unusual—he wasn’t the newest officer anymore, but he wasn’t the most seasoned either. He didn’t mind, though; Gavin had clocked out hours ago, leaving him alone with his thoughts and the hum of the precinct’s fluorescent lights. The idea gnawed of the Rapture at him—what if Ron, Lauren, and Gavin were right? What if everything he’d brushed off as superstition was real?
 
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Chapter 1 (part 3)

*****
Everett Marshall, Jr, had been living in the suburbs of Mount Prospect. Whenever the phone rang, when asked for Everett, it was, "Well, which one? Everett, Sr, or Everett, Jr?” or “Which Everett? Big Everett or Little Everett?” The resemblance was uncanny. They both had the same dark brown hair, the same hazel eyes, and the same strong jawline.

Everett, Sr, was a mechanic who ran a garage with his son helping him out after school. Everett’s mother never had to work outside the home, and was a stay at home mom. Everett, Jr was the second oldest of four kids with an older sister, Alicia and younger brother and sister, Ronnie and Gracie. Interesting enough, though, he was already taller than Alicia who worked at a Chick Fil A, and growing at a rate that would soon surpass his dad’s six-foot-four stature.

Well, what Everett liked a lot was church. Sundays were usually for attending church, though there were some times on the weekends where he would go with his father and Ronnie to a Chicago Cubs or a Chicago White Sox game or even a Chicago Bulls game. There wasn't anything Everett liked more than church. They attended New Hope Village Church. It was a place where everyone knew everyone. It was like a second family to him, a place where he felt safe and loved.

"You may have as well raised in it", his mother had often said with a fond smile, knowing Everett's love for the church was something he had found on his own.

Though Everett had a great secret: he had never really made the commitment to Christ. He still attend church and knew the Scriptures well. He never prayed to become a believer because he felt that he had enough faith just by being there. As usual, at New Hope Village Church, Pastor Billings was preaching about Jesus coming to take His people to Heaven.

"What a day this is going to be!", he said, "Jesus will come and take believers away! We will disappear in front of unbelieving people! It will all happened in the blink of an eye! Now I urge you to examine yourselves and pray for those who may not be prepared for that moment!"

Everett listened intently to Pastor Billings’s words, his heart racing. He knew that he enjoyed the community of church, the comfort of the routine, but he wasn’t quite ready to take that step of faith. Yet, something about the urgency in the Pastor’s voice resonated within him. Was he ready to be left behind? Would his family, his friends, be taken away?

One day, after church, when Everett was 17 and had his driver’s license for about a year and a half, he went into his bedroom which he shared with Ronnie. Both boys were athletic, and Everett played football, basketball, track, dodge ball, and baseball. His room was filled with trophies and posters of sports stars and scripture verses. Then Ronnie came in.

"You're still a Christian, right?", asked Ronnie, tossing a football to Everett. The leather smacked against his palms as he caught it reflexively.

"Sure I am", said Everett, tossing the football back to his brother. "Why do you ask?"

“I was just wondering. You know, because sometimes you seem a bit... I don’t know, distant during the sermons.”

Everett knew Ronnie was right. He may have memorized the Scriptures and attended church every Sunday, but deep down, he hadn't truly accepted Jesus into his heart. He even stopped going to youth group for a time, making some excuses, "I'm really busy that night" or "I've got something else going on!" But the truth was, he was scared of being judged by his peers. He didn’t know how to tell them that he wasn’t sure if he believed.

Everett used to go to Christian summer camps when he was a child. Though he started to phased out of it when he turned into a teenager. He also phased out of Sunday school, and just went to regular services with his family.

There were times when Ronnie would ask Everett to play basketball with him on the weekends. He used to love doing that, though he started to grow tired of it. He knew it was because of the emptiness inside of him. Gracie would even asked him to play the concentration card games with her, but he turned her down because he didn’t know what to do with himself anymore.

He could tell his parents that he hadn't really become a Christian. He decided not to. It was easier to keep up the facade. His mother even thought he would be a preacher one day. If he told her that he hadn’t really prayed to believe, she would be going hysterical over him. So he decided that he was going to keep it a secret, and act as he was a Christian. He would still be going to church and memorizing Bible verses.

"The LORD is wonderful, isn't He?", asked his mother.

"Yes, mom", said Everett., "He is."

How terrible Everett felt, like a hypocrite in the eyes of God and his family. The guilt grew heavier with each passing day. Yet, he continued the charade, hoping that one day he would find the courage to confess and truly seek salvation.

He had gone to his and Ronnie’s room that night, where he stared at the ceiling, listening to his brother’s slow, steady breathing from the other bed. The weight of the pastor’s words pressed down on him—what if the Rapture happened tomorrow or even tonight? Would he vanish with the others or be left behind with the others that didn’t believe? The thought twisted in his gut, sharp and undeniable. He began to doze off, wrestling with himself—half-formed prayers stuck in his throat, too afraid to whisper them aloud.
 
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Chapter 2 (part 1)

*****
Robert Burton, the oldest of six children, lived in Mount Prospect until he graduated from High School. He had dark hair and was tall. When Robert turned 10, Carl gave him his first passport and took him on one of his international trips to Portugal later in the summer. While Carl was reporting on a story in Lisbon, Robert discovered his love for flying. Carl later did the same with the other kids after they each turned ten. Not only that, but Carl also wanted to have a bonding time with each of the kids.

After graduating from Prospect High, Robert moved out on his own in the inner city of Chicago and began taking aviation classes. He worked his way up to Pan-Con 747, serving as a second officer navigator pilot under Captain Rayford Steele and First Officer Christopher “Chris” Smith. Now, 23 years old, Robert was one of the three pilots on a flight to London, departing from O'Hare Airport.

With his fully loaded 747 on autopilot above the Atlantic en route to a 6 a.m. landing at Heathrow, Rayford pushed from his mind thoughts of his family. For now, with Chris fighting sleep, Rayford imagined senior flight attendant, a 27 year old attractive blonde Hattie Durham’s smile and looked forward to their next meeting. She flirted shamelessly with him, even though she knew he was married with two children, 20 year old Chloe who was in her junior year at Stanford and 12 year old Raymie who was in the 6th grade at Lincoln Middle School. Rayford used to look forward to getting home Irene, who was attractive and vivacious enough, even at forty. But lately he had found himself repelled by her obsession with religion. It was all she could talk about.

God was OK with Rayford, and even enjoyed church occasionally. But since Irene had hooked up with a smaller congregation and was into weekly Bible studies and church every Sunday, Rayford had become uncomfortable. If only Irene hadn’t gone off on this new kick. Would it fade, her preoccupation with the end of the world, with the love of Jesus, with the salvation of souls? Lately she had been reading everything she could get her hands on about the rapture of the church.

Besides, Hattie was drop-dead gorgeous. No one could argue that. He could tell from her expressions, her demeanor, her eye contact that she at least admired and respected him. Whether she was interested in anything more, he could only guess. And so he did.

Rayford was no prude, but he had never been unfaithful to Irene. He’d had plenty of opportunities. Though under the influence, he had known enough to leave the party early. It was clear Irene noticed he was slightly drunk, but she couldn’t have suspected anything else. He was the pilot who had once consumed two martinis during a snowy shutdown at O’Hare and voluntarily grounded himself when the weather cleared. He offered to pay for bringing in a relief pilot, but Pan-Continental was so impressed that instead they made an example of his self-discipline and wisdom.

Robert observed Rayford’s subtle glances toward the cockpit door, anticipating Hattie’s next appearance. He had to admit she was attractive, but Rayford’s preoccupation felt heavier than mere flirtation. Robert enjoyed the international flight routes, yet on this flight, he couldn’t help but notice Rayford’s distracted gaze towards the cockpit door whenever Hattie passed by.

“Ray, you seem preoccupied. Everything alright?”, Robert asked, noting Rayford’s frequent glances toward the galley.

“Oh, Robert. Ah, yeah, I’m fine. It’s just... this route," Rayford said, rubbing his temples.

“Is it about Hattie or is it about your wife, Ray?”

“Well, Irene’s been going to that New Hope Village Church. She even said it helped grow in her faith. However, she seems like a religious nut case, always saying that Jesus was going to come back to take His people away. The Rapture, she calls it. Robert, remember how you came over to my house about a year ago and you’ve overheard the conversation between Irene and me? You heard her say that Jesus was coming back to take believers away.”

“Yes, I remember that. You’ve invited me over.”

“That’s right. Even my son Raymie has been going to church with her. He says he’s found Jesus, but I’m not so sure about it all. My daughter Chloe, who’s in her junior year at Stanford, well, she and Irene have slowly grown apart, causing Chloe to drop out of church altogether. Now she’s studying at Stanford, she nearly broke all ties with us, hardly ever visits except on holidays.”

“Hmm, it happens. My mom has talked about the same thing- the Rapture, I mean. Even my roommate Marc is a religious nut, often talking about the Rapture. I’ve often heard about it, as I was raised going to church and all. But now, it’s all just talk, and we’ve got planes to fly and lives to live down here.”

“What would you do if someone you cared about started talking like that?”

“I don’t know, Ray. Maybe I’d listen. Doesn’t mean I’d believe it. My parents are sincere believers, and they raised us with values that kept us out of trouble. But when I started flying, I saw firsthand how people lived without faith—successful, happy, no different than anyone else. We rely on systems, training, and technology. Faith feels like an unnecessary crutch when you’ve got functioning instruments.”

Rayford nodded. He believed in rules, systems, laws, patterns, things you could see and feel and hear and touch. If God was part of all that, OK. A higher power, a loving being, a force behind the laws of nature, fine. Let’s sing about it, pray about it, feel good about our ability to be kind to others, and go about our business. Now hearing Robert’s dismissiveness was oddly comforting.

Then the first officer stirred, stretching stiffly in his seat. Chris was an earthy, down-home kind of guy that Rayford and Robert both enjoyed chatting with. Robert had heard from his three youngest siblings about Chris’s two young sons, Jared and Jay, whom he often liked to talk about. Rayford and Chris had flown a good bit together and had even been through a dangerous incident together, but he had to admit that they had never bonded to the point where Rayford even knew where that accent had come from. Not quite Southern, but country. Could have been southern Indiana or even Oklahoma. Robert enjoyed Rayford and Chris’s camaraderie.

Chris was an ambitious guy. Rayford would’ve thought a guy who had his sights set on the top job would do everything in his power to show everybody he was dead serious and committed to it. If Chris ever made it to captain, perhaps Robert would be his first officer. Rayford knew Robert was ambitious too, but he liked the young man—not just because Robert was eager to learn and didn’t try to hide it, but mostly because he wasn’t afraid to tell Rayford exactly what he thought.

"Hey, I couldn’t help but hear you two talking. What is it, Ray? Hattie is gorgeous, even if she is 15 years younger and even if you are married”, Chris said, stretching his arms behind his head.

“Yeah, well before you go off the deep end with some crazy idea, as I was just telling Robert here, the one I’m married to, well, she's pushing the edge with her latest kick”, Rayford said, rubbing his forehead.

“What’s that?”

“Does your wife go to church, Chris?”

“No. Though Carolyn’s been letting our two boys, Jared and Jay, go to this youth school group at New Hope Village Church—the same one your Irene attends, Rayford. Robert, you ever been?”

“Yes, that’s the same church I went to when I was a little boy. My three youngest siblings attend the same youth group as your sons and even go to school with them. Samuel and Aneuein attend Prospect High School with Jared, and Mary attends Lincoln Middle School with Jay.”

“Oh, yes. Jay’s mentioned that Mary doesn’t say much, though. She must be pretty shy if she’s that quiet.”

“She’s quieter and insecure about herself these days. She’s small, 4’8, which makes her shorter than the average eighth grader. She holds on to a pink teddy bear she’s had since she was 3. She named the bear Rosie, and still sleeps with it every night.”

“Hmm, being small can be rough. But hey, she’ll grow, especially if she’s only thirteen. And Aneurin? How’s he handling high school?”

“He’s adjusting, gets good grades and is athletic. Although he’s been hanging out with kids our mom calls ‘the evil influences’— drugs, smoking, and drinking. He still goes to church and youth group. He’s kind of straddling two worlds right now.”

“Ah. The classic ‘church on Sunday, keg stand on Saturday’ routine. Seen that before. Anyhow, Jared has a driver’s license so he drives himself and Jay there. I think Carolyn’s enjoying it because the guys are out of the house that much more and she still knows where they're at. They seemed to enjoy the youth pastor—what's his name? Jordan?”

“Yes, Jordan. I actually knew him before he became youth pastor. He used to volunteer in the church nursery and even babysat us often. Great guy, though I think Mary was attached to him the most. As an infant, she’d reach for him whenever he walked into our house or whenever Mom or Dad dropped her off in the nursery. Now he’s a youth pastor and he’s engaging with teens about faith and scripture— even all that end-times stuff that even my roommate Marc’s been obsessed with.”

“Well, easy for you to say, Robert. You’re not married. You don’t have a wife going on and on about church stuff or even the Rapture. Though I suppose having a roommate who’s into prophecy isn’t much better, is it?”, Rayford said, massaging his temples again.

“No, it’s not. Attending felt more like performing rituals without meaning behind them. Like checking boxes to please my parents.”

Rayford and Chris exchanged glances. Robert thought that the most exciting part about the international trips was that there were new places to visit. Yet this flight, Robert’s cynicism was a shield against the unease Pastor Billings’ sermons had planted in him.
 
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Chapter 2 (part 2)

Aneurin Burton, the second youngest of Carl and Donna with dark hair, had been raised going to church along with Robert, Oliver, Elain, Samuel and Mary. He had enjoyed it as a kid. He would even get excited about going to Sunday School, Wednesday night church and even Vacation Bible School during the summer. There was a time that when Aneurin turned 10, Carl gave him his first passport, like what he had previously done with his 4 older siblings, and even took him on a national trip to Czech later in the summer, where he was a covering a story for the Global Weekly Magazine.

"Hey, thank you for taking me with you on this trip, Dad", said Aneurin, his voice filled with excitement as he looked out of the airplane window, watching the world shrink below them.

"You're welcome, buddy", Carl said, smiling at his son's enthusiasm. "It's important that you understand the world outside of Illinois. There's so much more out there, and traveling is a great way to learn and grow."

The city of Prague sprawled out beneath them as the plane touched down on the runway. Aneurin’s heart raced as he thought of all the adventures that awaited them. He watched as his dad went about his journalist duties, eagerly taking notes and snapping photos of everything around them. The culture was vastly different from what he was used to, but he felt a strange sense of belonging in the midst of the unfamiliarity, and he enjoyed his first international trip with Carl. At that time, he still enjoyed going to church. He was a curious kid, always asking questions about God and the world around him. Carl would patiently explain the answers, weaving in tales of his own faith journey and the miracles he'd witnessed in his life as a journalist.

However, about two years later, when Aneurin turned 12, he started to hang out with a group of friends that wanted to do their own thing on weekends, which rarely involved church. His curiosity shifted from the divine to the secular, and he found himself drifting away from the spiritual life he once cherished. Once he socialized with them, he joined in. He was still a good student and got good grades and was athletic, but his behavior was causing his parents to worry.

There was even a time that Aneurin would attend church. As usual, Pastor Vernon Billings was speaking of "the Rapture" and end times. He urged the congregation to be ready, to examined themselves, and to be prayer for those who may not be ready. Aneurin thought it just didn't make sense. Jesus would come back to take away His people and it would all happened in an instant? He had heard it so much, but he had his own plans for life. He wanted to have fun, live his teenage years to the fullest, and not be bogged down by rules and regulations from the Bible. It was as if he had outgrown it.

Now about 3 years later, 15 year old Aneurin was drifting on a dangerous path. He began to do drugs, smoke, and drink. Even his female friends were beginning to dress in a way that drew attention, much to Donna’s disapproval, as she had called his new friends the "evil influences." They were the ones who had introduced him to the darker side of life, and she feared they would lead him down a dangerous path. He was a “wild guy” as other kids at Prospect High School called him. He still got good grades, was still athletic, and still attended youth group at church occasionally to please his parents. Yet church was making him feel uncomfortable. Each Sunday sermon seemed to tug at him—Pastor Billings talking about the Rapture, sin, repentance, and the emptiness of worldly pleasures—but he’d shake it off by Monday, diving back into his reckless habits.

One night, Aneurin came home in his drunken state and Donna smelled the alcohol on him as soon as he stepped inside the house. She reached out to touch his shoulder—her fingers pressing just slightly too hard—and he shrugged her off before she could say anything, rolling his eyes as he stumbled past her toward the stairs. The boys shared a room, and when Robert and Oliver went out on their own, Samuel and Aneurin had the room to themselves, and Robert and Oliver stayed there during holidays.

"What's got into you?", asked Donna, "You don't love Jesus anymore?"

How am I supposed to answer that? Aneurin thought to himself. He may have liked church as a child. But loving Jesus? That never occurred to him.

"I don't know, mom", Aneurin said, avoiding her gaze.

“I'm concerned about the choices you've been making," Donna said, her voice filled with both love and a hint of sadness. "I know it's tough to fit in, but those friends are not leading you down the right path. I know no one is perfect, but we need to strive to be like Jesus."

"Perhaps I will when I grow up", said Aneurin, trying to appease his mother. "But right now, I need to live my life.”

It wasn't she wanted to hear. Afterwards, she left the room with a heavy sigh, her eyes filled with unshed tears. Aneurin knew he was breaking her heart, but he just couldn’t bring himself to care anymore.

"Can I ask you something, Aneurin?", asked Samuel one evening as they lay in bed.

"What is it now, Samuel?", asked Aneurin, rolling his eyes in the darkness.

"Well, you're still a Christian, aren't you? Were you ever?"

"Sure I am! Why do you ask?"

“Why is that you don't act like one?"

"I am just as much as a Christian as you are!"

“You’ve been doing things that aren’t exactly Christian, Aneurin. As your older brother, I just want you to think about it, that’s all.”

Aneurin rolled his eyes again and swore under his breath. He was glad that Donna didn't hear it and he was pretty sure Samuel didn't either. And because of his hanging out with the crowd, he stopped going to church regularly, except for when his parents would ask him to go. He knew his mom had noticed the change in him, but he didn't care.

Aneurin had heard so many sermons about Jesus coming to rapture His church, but he had his own plans for life. He wanted to have fun, live his teenage years to the fullest, and not be bogged down by rules and regulations from the Bible.

“You don't know how much time you have", said Carl, his voice stern but filled with love. "You can't keep living like this and expect everything to work out. You need to get right with God, son."

"I have all the time in the world", said Aneurin with a smug smile, "God isn't going to just pull the plug like that.”

Donna cried in the master bedroom, her heart aching for her son's lost innocence. Carl joined her, his own eyes filled with sadness and concern. If they had any control over him, it was by grounding him for a week. He now couldn't go anywhere without their knowing or even go to hang out with his friends or that if he went out, he would have to be home by a certain time. Though there were nights that he would sneak out anyways. There were even times he broke curfew, and would come in the backdoor, hoping his parents wouldn't hear.

That day, after dinner, Aneurin was getting ready to head out. He put on his leather jacket and ruffled his dark blond hair in front of the hallway mirror. Samuel looked up from his math homework at the kitchen table. "Going to meet those guys again?" Samuel asked. His eyes stayed fixed on Aneurin’s face.

“I’m actually going to the library. I….I’ve got to do some research,” Aneurin said, avoiding Samuel’s gaze as he tugged at the frayed cuff of his jacket.

“Suit yourself, man.”

Aneurin left, and although he went to the library, he had no intention of studying. He was out in the alleyway with his friends, smoking and drinking. He overheard his friends talking about their plans for the weekend—parties and more reckless behavior—but his thoughts drifted to Samuel’s words. *Why don’t you act like one?* The question gnawed at him, but he drowned it out with another swig from the bottle. He chewed some nicotine gum to mask the smell, grimacing at the bitter taste. Then he went inside the library and chewed on a spearmint gum to mask the smell of alcohol on his breath, knowing his parents would smell it if he came home drunk again. He went inside the lounge area, plopping onto a couch with a sigh. His head spun slightly, the room tilting as he dozed off.
 
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Chapter 3 (part 1)

****
Josiah Eliraz had been raised in a Pakistani-Jewish family in Mount Prospect before going to nursing school in Chicago. The Elirazes, although not the first Jews to live in the Mount Prospect neighborhood, they were among the first Pakistani-Americans to settle in the area. Josiah was tall and had dark hair, with an olive complexion, and was very fluent in English, Hebrew, and Urdu.

His father, Tobias, owned a business in Chicago, the Eliraz Industry that specialized in security systems and exported goods to different countries, and was wealthy. His mother, Hilda, never had to work outside the home. His oldest brother Ivan worked in the family business and would eventually take over once their father was ready to retire, and was married to Sienna with 3 children, 2 boys and 1 girl. An older brother and sister Caleb was a a pilot who was married to Rhoda, and Phoebe moved to Israel after graduating from high school and was married to Silas Baurchus who worked for the Mossad. A younger brother Nathan was in his senior year at Northwestern Chicago University and younger sister Addi was a sophomore at the University of South Chicago.

Just after graduation from Prospect High School, Josiah joined the US Marine Corps as a medic, stationed in Pakistan—a nod to his heritage- then returned home to Chicago, where he got into nursing school with a military scholarship. After earning his nursing license, Josiah moved out of his parents' home in Mount Prospect and got an apartment in Chicago, closer to the Arlington Heights Hospital where he worked as a registered nurse. Although only 23 years old, the hospital had quickly recognized his potential and he was often put in charge of his floor, even though he had only been working there for six months.

He participated in the celebration of Rosh Hannah, Purim, Passover, Hanukkah, and other Jewish holidays. As Pakistan is primarily a Muslim country, Pakistani Jews were in the minority, and even Pakistani-Americans were in the minority in Mount Prospect and Chicago. Their roots traced back to the Jewish community in Karachi, Pakistan, where both his father and mother’s ancestors had lived for generations before emigrating to the United States. When Josiah was 13, there was a group of Jews that would gathered together at a rally of some sort, and a pastor came to speak.

"If I can have your attention, please", said the pastor, "I am well aware you are Jewish, still waiting for your Messiah. Well, let me say He has already come."

The pastor went through the prophecies of the Old Testament, and how it was all leading to Jesus as the Messiah. He explained how Jesus had fulfilled all the prophecies. The words of the pastor didn’t just fall on deaf ears; they resonated with Hilda and Tobias. They felt a stirring in their hearts, something that was strange and yet familiar. They had never heard about Jesus like this before, and it was as if a veil had been lifted from their eyes. They decided to investigate further, and what they found was a revelation that shook their world.

"If you are willing to accept Jesus as your Messiah", said the pastor, "Pray with me."

The pastor was leading in the prayer. Josiah looked around and saw his parents bowing their heads in prayer. He wondered if they could be praying along with the pastor. Then he saw then 11 year old Nathan and then 9 year old Addi bowing in prayer as well. He wondered what could this be about. It was all too much for him to comprehend at the moment.

Soon after the pastor led the prayer, the Jewish gathering dispersed. Josiah came home after about an hour or so and saw his parents sitting in the living room, holding Bibles, looking happier than he had seen them in a long time.

"What happened to you?", he asked, "You look like you've seen a ghost."

"Would you believe we have become Christians tonight?", asked Tobias with a smile that seemed to light up the room.

Josiah blinked, trying to process the words he had just heard. "What do you mean, Dad?"

"We've accepted Jesus as our Lord and Savior, son," Hilda said. "He is the promised Messiah."

Josiah felt a mix of confusion and anger. "What about our traditions? Our family heritage?" he protested, feeling the ground shift beneath him.

"Josiah,", Tobias, said gently, "our heritage is important, but so is truth. And we've found that in Jesus. He is the fulfillment of what we've been waiting for."

"I've practiced Judaism since I was a boy", said Josiah, "Why would I want to change that?"

"It's not about changing who you are, son," replied his father, his tone gentle yet firm. "It's about filling the emptiness inside you with the love and salvation that only Jesus can provide.".

"You're telling me that Jesus is the Jewish savior? That's ridiculous. And what about the prophecies of the Messiah? The one who will restore Israel?"

"We'll let God work on you, Josiah", said Hilda, giving him a warm smile that seemed to hold a hint of hope. "Pray and seek the truth with an open heart."

Josiah went into the family room, and saw Nathan and Addi sitting on the couch, their faces filled with the same excitement and peace as their parents. They looked up at him with hope in their eyes, holding their own Bibles.

"Is this true?", asked Josiah, his voice barely above a whisper. "You guys believe in Jesus now?"

Nathan nodded, his eyes glowing with a newfound faith. "Yes, we do. And it's amazing, Josiah. You should try it. Give it a chance."

Josiah rolled his eyes, feeling like an outsider in his own home. "This is nonsense. Why can't you guys just stick to what we've always known?"

"Because we've found something more, something real," Addi said, her voice earnest. "Jesus is the true Messiah, and He loves you too, Josiah.”

“We’re Jewish. Why should we believe in some guy that got killed a couple thousand years ago?”

“Yes, Jesus was killed, but He also rose again, and He’s coming back for all who believe in Him, no matter their background," said Nathan, his voice filled with conviction. "We can’t ignore the truth just because it’s not what we’ve always known."

Just then, then 17 year old Caleb and 15 year old Phoebe, came into the room, their faces tight with confusion.

“What’s going on here?”, Caleb asked, seeing Nathan and Addi clutching unfamiliar Bibles.

“Caleb, Phoebe, we’ve found the Messiah,” Nathan said, his voice filled with excitement.

“You really believe that?”, asked Phoebe, her voice sharp with disbelief.

“Yes, and you better do it, too, Phoebe”, Addi piped up, clutching her Bible like a prized possession. “Jesus isn’t just for us Jews—He’s for everyone, but He came to us first.”

"Hey, if you want to believe that stuff about Jesus being the Messiah, that's your own business", said Josiah, "Just leave me out of it, okay?”

The conversation ended with a tense silence, leaving the family divided by their beliefs. Yet, as the days turned into weeks, the unspoken tension grew thicker. Even when his parents, oldest brother Ivan, and younger brother and sister Nathan and Addi, converted to Christianity, Josiah was still set in his ways on practicing the Jewish religion. Even up until graduation, the US Marine Corps stationed in Pakistan and nursing school, and nursing school, then becoming a registered nurse, he was still active in the Jewish synagogue. Caleb was also set in his Judaism ways, even after he married Rhoda, who was Jewish as well. Phoebe remained Jewish, and moved to Israel and married Silas, who was Jewish. Ivan and Sienna were Christians, and attended church with their 3 children, and Nathan and Addi were also Christians and attended church. Tobias and Hilda attended church and still participated in Jewish celebrations, though they now saw them through the lens of Christianity.

Josiah had been asked to work double shift in the hospital’s emergency unit since the nurse manager called in sick. He didn’t mind – the chaos of the ER suited his restless thoughts. Around midnight, he was stitching up a drunk college kid who kept slurring about a campus party gone wrong when a commotion erupted near the ambulance bay. Paramedics wheeled in a gurney carrying a pale, shivering teen whose thin arms were bruised purple and blue. Josiah handed off his patient to another nurse and moved closer, his training overriding his exhaustion.

Josiah decided to take a rest in the nurse’s lounge, sinking into a worn vinyl chair. The hum of fluorescent lights blended with distant intercom announcements—a fractured lullaby. He closed his eyes, mentally replaying his father’s words about Jesus fulfilling Messianic prophecies. The argument felt like a splinter he couldn’t extract, buried deep beneath years of synagogue visits and Passover seders. Why did their conversion still unsettle him after all this time?
 
Chapter 3 (part 2)

****
Santiago Perez and his family were among the first Hispanics to live in the Mount Prospect Neighborhood. He is Puerto Rican and was fluent in English and Spanish. His father, Horatio was a professor of literature at a college in Chicago and his mother, Amaya, worked as a waitress in a restaurant in the inner city of Chicago. He had to admit that his little brother and sister, Edaurdo and Rosa were good kids. Though they sure got on his nerves sometimes.

There were other Hispanics or Latinos at school, though not many. He became active in sports, playing soccer, basketball, and softball in grade school. When he got into middle school, he started playing football. His family visited either from Puerto Rico or Miami every summer, and he looked forward to those visits. Even though they lived in Mount Prospect, the Perez family attended a Spanish church in Chicago where they stayed with family for the weekend and came home in Mount Prospect Sunday afternoon. He started going to youth group at New Hope Village Church, since it was closer to him. It was a place where he could be himself without the pressure of school or his family's expectations.

Santiago even began to wonder why his namesake. Horatio often told him that his name was a combination of "saint" and "Iago", which is a Portuguese and Spanish form of "James" and "Jacob." It was a strong name, a name of faith and heritage. Yet, Santiago felt as though he was living in the shadows of his name's meaning. He was not as devout as his family believed him to be.

He liked going to a Spanish church in Chicago and going to Youth Group in Mount Prospect. He believed there was a God out there, and that Jesus was His Son who died for sins, but he didn't see how it mattered in his life. He was a good kid, and he didn't do drugs, smoke, or drink—his parents would kill him if he did—but he didn't see the point in praying or reading the Bible every day.

"Jesus is wonderful", said Amaya, "Aren't you glad we serve a wonderful God?"

"Oh si,, we do", said Santiago, "I just don't know if it's real."

"Well, we're praying for you, Santiago, God will get your attention one day."

"Perhaps He will."

Now, at 13 years old, Santiago was athletic and was the jock at school. You name the sport, he enjoyed it and was good at it and played with all his might. He was the fastest runner, the highest jumper, the best hitter and thrower in baseball, the widest receiver in football and the sharpest shooter in basketball. Not only that, but he was academically active as well, participating in the science club and the school's debate team. So as the jock, the scholar and the social butterfly, he was very popular at school. Even now, he was going through change in mind and body, as puberty had settled in. His voice was deepening, his shoulders broadening, his arms thickening. His muscles were well defined, his jawline sharpening, his dark eyes gleaming. A lot of girls were crazy about him, and would often show off his muscles and athleticism to impress them. He enjoyed the attention he received, especially from girls, and because of this, he felt powerful and felt that he didn’t need religion to define him.

Recently, pride got into Santiago. His prowess in sports and academics, coupled with the admiration he received, inflated his ego. He became proud and boastful of his accomplishments and status. A lot of girls swooned over him, a lot of guys wanted to be like him, and a lot of adults praised his achievements. He thrived on the attention, addicted to the validation that came with being the best.

It was one thing to go to a Spanish church in Chicago and youth group at New Hope Village Church. He even invited his friends from school to youth group. Eduardo and Rosa would often get excited about going to Sunday School as well. His parents would often tell him that he was doing the right thing by inviting his friends to church and youth group. But Santiago wasn't sure if he was doing it for the right reasons. He liked the attention he got from his friends, the way they looked up to him, the way the girls smiled at him when he walked into the youth group room. He liked being the center of attention, the one everyone turned to when there was a game or a competition.

On the weekends, other than church, Horatio, Santiago and Eduardo would go to the Chicago White Sox or the Chicago Cubs games while Amaya and Rosa would stay home and sew. It was a family tradition. Santiago loved the smell of the hotdogs, the roar of the crowd, the crack of the bat, and the way the stadium lights made the field glow like a stage.

"Now don't forget", Amaya would often said, "You were raised going to church. We've dedicated you and your little brother and sister to the LORD."

Santiago knew she was right. He had been dedicated when he was an infant at a church. Then Eduardo then Rosa were. He had to admit he liked church a lot and going to youth group at New Hope Village Church. He just didn’t know if he believed all the stuff they said in church or youth group. He just went along with it because his parents expected him to, and it was tradition.

At a Spanish Church in Chicago, the pastor was speaking about Jesus coming to take His believers away into Heaven. He even said it would all happened in an instant.

"This is going to be a great day for us", said the pastor, "But a sad one for unbelievers or those who may not be ready. How important it is to examine our faith and be ready as well to be prayer for those who may not be ready."

Santiago heard about this. He learned about it in Youth Group at New Hope Village Church. Pastor Jordan mentioned this, as well as Pastor Ruiz at the Spanish church in Chicago. But he didn’t know what to think about it. He never gave it much thought. The last thing he wanted to think about was Jesus coming back when he had a football game next week and a science fair project to finish.

He knew his mother was worried for him. Though his parents were proud of his achievements—his grades, his athleticism, his easy charm—he could tell Amaya studied him sometimes, her lips pressed into a thin line when she thought he wasn’t looking.

Santiago was proud of his athleticism, maybe too proud. In front of his friends, he would show off, lifting weights effortlessly, doing push-ups one-handed, and making basketball shots from half-court without breaking a sweat. His teammates cheered him on, and the girls giggled and blushed when he winked at them. He drank in the admiration like water in a desert.

Then that night, Santiago had helped tuck in Eduardo and Rosa into bed and had read a Bible story with them as his mother requested. He listened to Eduardo's innocent prayers, Rosa's soft voice joining in, and wondered—not for the first time—why their faith felt so effortless while his own sat like a weight in his chest. He turned off the lights, and quietly closed the door behind him. He was the jock and proud of it, but somehow, in that moment, he felt like he was missing something. Was he too arrogant? Was he too proud? Was he too blind to see what his parents saw? He didn't know. He didn't want to think about it.
 
Chapter 4 (part 1)

*****
Lucille Moise grew up in Mount Prospect until she graduated from Prospect High School. She began attending the University of South Chicago for general studies, hoping to find a career path that suited her free-spirited nature. She was 5’7 and had reddish brown hair that fell just past her shoulders and was a social butterfly. She was staying at a dorm near the university, which allowed her to focus on her studies without the distraction of her family's strict religious views.

Her parents were devout Christians, but their constant pressure to follow in their footsteps had pushed her away from the church. She hardly visited, except during holidays, when it was expected of her. Her brother Harold and sister Cheryl went to Prospect High School, and were active in the YMCA and YWCA.
Lucille’s favorite color was turquoise, and although a bit of a girly-girl, she had bit of a tomboy streak— she enjoyed tea parties and dress-up with Cheryl, but could also hold her own shooting hoops with Harold. Her mother often refer to her as having a bit of a balance— a girly-girl with a tomboy side. And there wasn’t anything wrong with that.

Lucille attended New Hope Village Church when she was a little girl, but religion never occurred to her as something that could offer her the excitement and adventure she craved. Pastor Billings had talked a lot about the Rapture, but to her, it was just another one of those weird, abstract concepts that didn’t fit into her concrete worldview. Plus, with her newfound independence at college, she had a whole new world to explore.

Three years later, when Lucille and her roommate Madeline were 21 years old and in their senior year of college, Elain and Addi, who were 19 and in their sophomore year who had been staying at a dorm across the hall from them for a year, invited them to a church service and Bible study at a church close by the university.

"I don't know", said Lucille, "I haven't been to church since I was a little girl."

"Come on, Lucille, Madeline”, Elain said, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. "You've gotta come with us to church this weekend.”

Lucille leaned against her dorm room doorframe, arms crossed. “Look, I appreciate the invite, but Pastor Billings back home talked about the Rapture enough to last me a lifetime. It’s all... a bit much. Do you believe in the Rapture? I’ve heard there’s different ideas on the timing, you know, like Pre-Tribulation or Mid-Tribulation or Post-Tribulation.” She paused, her brow furrowed. “I mean, how do you even know which one’s right?”

“Both of us personally believe in a pre-tribulation rapture,”Addi replied softly, twisting a strand of dark hair around her finger. “But honestly? The ‘when’ matters less than the ‘who.’ Jesus Himself said that no ones knows the day or hour. Not even the angels know or even Jesus Himself knows. Only the Father knows. I was raised Jewish, but I have embraced Jesus as the Messiah who came and will come again.”

“Pastor Billings actually said the same thing- no one knows the day or hour. But he seemed pretty convinced it’d be soon.”

“And we believe it will be sooner than later”, Elain added, her voice earnest. “But Pastor Billings also said the most important thing is being ready, no matter when it happens. That’s why we’re inviting you both.”

“Thank you. I’ll think about it”, Lucille said, closing her dorm door softly. She leaned against the wood, staring at the peeling paint on her ceiling. Madeline flipped through a fashion magazine on her bed, humming absently. Outside, Chicago’s evening traffic pulsed like a distant heartbeat.

While Lucille and Madeline weren’t into the religious scene, they did enjoy hanging out with the two sophomore girls, and they’d go to the mall, see a movie, or grab a bite to eat at their favorite restaurant. But when Sunday rolled around, Elain and Addi would be out the door before dawn to attend their early morning service at the church. It was like nothing could keep them from going, not even the allure of sleeping in on a weekend.

Lucille couldn’t wrap her head around it. What was so special about church? She remembered Pastor Billings at New Hope Village Church back home, his sermons filled with warnings about the Rapture and end times. It was all so intense and serious. But Elain and Addi seemed genuinely happy and at peace. They weren’t pushy or judgmental; they just lived their faith quietly. It was confusing. How could something that seemed so restrictive bring them such joy?

Sometimes, they would have Bible studies at the dorm, which intrigued Lucille. She had heard about the Rapture before but never really gave it much thought. She remembered Pastor Billings mentioning it, but it was always something distant and abstract. Now, Elain and Addi spoke about it with such certainty, as if it were an imminent event. Lucille found herself listening intently, trying to understand what made them so passionate.

"I'll tell you, Lucille", said Elain, "God will get your attention one day.”

Lucille just shrugged. "I doubt it. I'm pretty good at ignoring things that don't fit my schedule."

Addi looked at her with a knowing smile. "You might be surprised," she said softly.

Lucille often heard from her mom, who told her that she was praying for her to come back to church. She knew her mom meant well, but she just couldn't bring herself to go back to the place she had felt so suffocated. Her skepticism grew stronger with each passing day, and she found solace in her new group of friends who didn't judge her for her lack of belief.

Lucille had been reading through her sociology book in the dorm lounge, highlighting passages about cultural identity. The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead—a sound she typically drowned out with music—but tonight it felt like background static to her thoughts. Across the room, Elain and Addi sat reviewing Bible study notes. She caught fragments: “prophecy,” “restoration,” and Addi’s soft murmur, “He promised He’d prepare a place for us.” Lucille clicked her pen absently, wondering how faith felt so effortless for them yet remained so elusive to her.

It was getting late, so she headed back to her dorm room. Madeline was sprawled on her bed scrolling through her phone—gold light from the screen casting shadows under her chin. Lucille laid on her own bed, staring at the ceiling. She could hear Elain and Addi giggling in the hallway—their laughter light, carefree. It was unsettling how happy they were, how untroubled. She began to doze off, but then something jolted her awake—not a noise, just a thought. What if they were right? What if it *was* all real? She fell asleep before she could answer.
 
Chapter 4 (part 2)

****
Mary Burton, the youngest of Carl and Donna’s six children, had been raised going to church, like 5 older siblings Robert, Oliver, Elain, Samuel and Aneurin. She had light blond hair and was 4’8 with a slender frame. When she was first born, Elain was especially happy about finally having a sister, after having only 4 brothers. Mary possessed a pink teddy bear with a pink bow on its right ear named Rosie, which she cherished dearly. Rosie was Mary’s Christmas gift when she was 3, and it had been with her ever since.

When was about 5, she started doing gymnastics and ballet, and she was good at it. She even won a few competitions. She was small for her age, but she made up for it with her enthusiasm and determination. When she was 10, like her 5 older siblings, Carl gave her a passport and took her with him on one of his international trips to Croatia later that summer.

“Why do you travel a lot, Daddy?”, Mary asked, clutching Rosie tightly as she looked out the window of the plane into the city of Dubrovnik below.

“It’s part of my job, sweetie”, Carl replied, his eyes reflecting the excitement of exploration and discovery. “But remember, no matter where I go, God is always with me. He’s with you too, every single moment.”

Mary nodded, though the concept of an invisible being watching over her was something she had yet to fully comprehend. She was quite glad that she got to go one of the international trips with Carl. She had to admit that she was actually quite proud of him. After arriving home, she got into figure skating, which was a combination of her gymnastic and ballet skills. It became her escape from the tension at home and the confusion in her heart.

When Mary turned 12, although she has always been quiet she started to become quieter and more introspective. She still attended church, though she grew more skeptical about God and whether He as real. Her curiosity grew into a silent quest for understanding. She found comfort in the routines of church and the warmth of her family's faith, but the flame in her own heart was dwindling.

Now, a year later, 13 year old Mary was quieter than ever. She got her first iPhone her birthday- pink, of course. Carl even had parental controls installed, but she didn't mind. While she didn’t become cynical as Robert or rebellious as Aneurin, she did find herself drawn to questioning the existence of God. She had heard the stories from her parents and the sermons at church, but something just wasn’t clicking for her. Maybe it was Robert’s cynicism or Aneurin’s rebellion influencing her, or maybe it was her own doubts creeping in. Either way, she was struggling. She still went to church every Sunday morning and evening. She even attended youth group each week. But the words felt like distant echoes in an empty room, failing to ignite her spirit as they once had.

If there was really a God out there—some unseen force watching everything—Mary wondered why He’d let her feel so insecure. “So if God was real”, Mary asked Carl one day, “What can He do?“

”I know it’s hard for you to understand, Honey”, said Carl, “Though you’ll be amazed at what He can do. He’s done a lot in my life, and I know He will in yours, too.”

Mary had been sweet and innocent, but now she was starting to see the cracks in her parents’ faith. She went into her room, which she shared with Elain until she graduated and went to study at University of South Chicago. Elain’s favorite color was purple, and was more of a tomboy who enjoyed track and field, so her side of the room was decorated with sports trophies and medals. Mary’s favorite color was pink, and she was more of a girly-girl who enjoyed dolls and figure skating, so her side was decorated with her skating medals, ballet ribbons, dolls all line up neatly on the shelves, and doll dresses that both her paternal grandmother and maternal grandmother sewed for her dolls. Despite their differences, the sisters used to be close. Now that Elain was away in college, Mary only had Rosie to confide in.

“I believe that God will somehow find a way to get your attention”, Carl said to Mary one evening as they sat in the quiet living room. His voice was filled with the same hope that had fueled his journalistic spirit for years.

“Perhaps He will”, said Mary, her voice a whisper.

Mary continued to doubt about God and whether He was real. Did Jesus really died and rose again? Could He really save her? Was Jesus really coming back to take His followers and she wasn’t prepared for it? Her mind was filled with questions she couldn’t answer. How soon Mary would come to understand that God loved her and that Jesus died for her. She knew her mom and dad talked about it, but she just couldn’t grasp it. Her heart was filled with doubt, but she didn’t want to disappoint her family. She knew they were Christians, and they were always talking about Jesus.

That night, Mary turned her phone off, and lay in bed while clutching Rosie tightly, staring at the ceiling, wondering if God was real and if He could hear her prayers. The house was strangely quiet, so she fell fast asleep.
 
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