"Are you there.?"

“Are you there, God? It’s me., one of your children. Lunar.” 

They listened for an answer, in the dark cold of their room, looking at the stars and moon in the sky outside. 

“I know I’m not perfect, but I try..” The child continued on. “I ask, why don’t you seem to be here when I need you? Are you even there now.?” The child clenched their folded hands, looking down with a sigh of defeat, “Why can’t I just be normal?” 

Looking around skittishly, they rose to their feet and unbowed their head, went and sat on their bed, before a silent tear scraped down their cheek. 

They looked around at the room they’ve known all their life, so bitter, so unreal, the bible sitting on their desk and the studies which revealed that they were God’s children, both young and old, so why doesn’t he hear us when we get told, to go do what the Lord asks, was it only in the past? 

“I am the only one in my family who doesn’t believe enough to hear you.” They whispered, “But why can’t I just believe?” 

Opening the door to the long hallway of gloom, they see their brother, sitting in his room. Memorizing verses for catechism because he certainly was a holy Christian. 

Walking down the stairs of memory, every night there’s a prayer before everyone ate. It had never meant anything to them, just a chore to get done, in order to eat.

On Wednesdays they went to church, they’d sit and listen to every single verse. It never meant anything, yet again something to listen to before they fell asleep in the back of the lecture room. 

Sundays were worse, going into the Church, the alter in the front which held all their prayers, the ‘God’ who was there listening to all their guilt and what they said. “Yea right!” They’d yell in their mind. “Why do I have to do this! It’s such a waste of time!” 

Because this family, so small and humble, had only one god which never stumbled. One they all believed in above all else, the one who always came to help. 

“But he’s not my god.” The child would say. In their mind to other’s dismay. At a school where Christian teachings is all anyone knows, where the different and weird might as well be ghosts. 

When the family turns to a therapist so perfect and believing, only strengthens the ideal that the child must follow god in all their reasoning. 

“It’s not who I am.” The child would whisper, “Not what I agree in, not what I believe.” 

Yet these shackles of faith they stay in their place, they hold the children down buried in the ground until nobody hears their screams because they’re just weak! Weak links to what all believe when the choice isn’t there’s to make. Think about the children! The millions of children stuck in this place, the one which proves no escape even in adult hood being different because the Lord wasn’t there while they were children! 

“Are you there..?” 

..

“No” 

The god was never there, in their lives throughout their prayers, throughout what everyone always believed, we will never be able to be freed.”

Silence wraps the head of those who dread the work it might take just to be good in faith. That one doesn’t believe in because of all their sins. The words that strongly dig in, to their minds food of life, that may never be satisfied. 

So once again they ask, “Are you there?” 

They want to believe you are, they want to believe they see you, they want to believe they hear you. They want to believe! 

“So why can’t they?”

“…”

Because people don’t listen to every mission that people make to save us from this fate, because they know.,

They know….

When the child looking out the window doesn’t.

When the child sitting at the meal and praying with their family doesn’t.

When the child walking to Catechism doesn’t

(!) When the child going to Sunday School and church weekly for their family doesn’t! 

Nobody wants to be a let down. So why do people set it up, so that, that is all we could ever be? 

In this world that holds many different lives, side by side, why can’t we stand, and be united, instead of trying to fight it. 

Fight each other, bring us down, so that shadows may even start to drown out those who fall behind, in the race of life, the small children which struggle to stand in the world we live in. 

Humanity is corrupt, it follows ways that nobody ever should, and yet we get away with it, because we follow a “god” which forgives our sins, or makes it just. When it could never be just in the eyes of a child. 

An innocent life threatened by religion, because that’s all anyones ever believed in!

So these children look out at the sky and pray every night that they may be changed, molded to be stained, so that nobody may shatter their broken platter which was never broken! 

Just led off the path of others who’s minds are far from pure, who were never quite sure that what they followed was even right, they just always wanted a fight. 

Giving that fight to others to cause in up-rising in the hearts and minds of the innocent. So they ask. “Are you there!?” to themselves expecting an answer from someone else.

When nobody else is even listening, these words of pain they start to glisten in the eyes of all who tried. They failed quickly and became the odd one out in the city because they finally noticed that what others say isn’t right, so why does everyone put up a fight to say it is!? 

These children deserve to be alright and yet they’re not because of the things forced on to them as they walk, the pressures which only build so they could be a good influence on those around them.

When around others they despise the Lord’s name because that’s what’s been pushed for all their lives and they’re tired. 

So tired., 

Of constantly having to live up to others expectations, the things which may never get erased from them. 

So even in adulthood when they know, that the god’s not there. They know they don’t believe in him, and they’re comfortable with their lives and a family, they will still cease to ask..,

“Are you there.?”