Life Boiled Down

Why does my life have to be so complicated? Can't I just have something simple for once? A simple love story. A happily ever after. Instead, I'm stuck in this messed-up fairytale of his own design. Bottom line, I can't love him or even like him. His name is Hanomond Whitman and I believe he is the Antichrist. 

Three and a half years ago, that would have been a joke. But that was before millions of people and all children and babies vanished in thin air, leaving only their earthly possessions behind. People were terrified and confused by the disappearances. Everyone was looking for an explanation and suddenly everything was on the table. Every conceivable explanation was put forth. Space aliens, cosmic rays, nuclear attack, chemical warfare, international enemies… You name it and whatever reason you can think of had a following. Mr. Whitman came to power in the midst of this global anxiety and panic. He was charming, humble, compassionate… and it didn’t hurt that he was handsome. I was swept up in his wake, helpless to resist his charisma and dominant personality. His own explanation that the disappearances were the result of nuclear build-up in the environment made perfect sense to me. It also worked to convince the world to disarm. 

What a glorious day that was! The site of nations finally, FINALLY putting down their weapons and being forced to talk to each other was cathartic on a global scale. It changed everything for those left. We as a people rallied behind him, ignoring all opposing or differing opinions, and followed our new global leader happily. It didn’t matter what the naysayers and doom and gloom fundamentalists had to say, for the first time in human history, we were coming together under the umbrella of ‘human’ and closer to true brotherly love. Meeting Hanomond was a privilege beyond telling. And when he picked me as his lover, I was over the moon with excitement and love. I opened my whole heart to him. He spoke of his love for me and his plans for our planet. I couldn’t have been more excited.

Then World War III broke out.

All that death and destruction… bodies burning in the streets or left to rot in the sun and… Hano was almost gleeful about it. He had all these plans, reorganizing all those left into ten kingdoms that combined the remnants of enemy countries and allies alike. I was astonished at the changes that came over him. Plus, things that the fundamentalists were saying were starting to make sense to me. I didn’t want to believe it. I wanted to continue living my life the way it was. They couldn't be right. And they DEFINITELY weren’t right about my man. The more the world fell apart around us, the more he seemed interested in starting a family of his own. He didn’t want to marry me necessarily, mind you. Marriage was an archaic institution according to him and marriages didn’t last. No, he wanted something pure, something real with me. He whispered that to me nightly as we lay at night, the sweat drying on our skin. It came to the point that I despised the very word ‘marriage’. Who was a god who would allow such worldwide devastation and heartache to intrude on our happiness? 

Hanomond protected me from most of the craziness that came after the war. I can’t even pretend to have suffered like others. I mean, I lost my family and a lot of friends as the world was bombarded by what I now believe were judgments on humanity by a loving but just God as a last-ditch effort to reach His children. People tend to remember the ‘loving’ part of God’s character but forget that He is righteous and hates sin. He will not be associated with it at all, that’s why Jesus Christ was so necessary. But I’m getting ahead of myself. The loss of aquatic life, the riots, the chaos and confusion of a world seemingly turning on itself… I was spared most of that by my proximity to the world leader. Nothing seemed to touch him, it was weird. But whenever I brought it up to him, he’d chuckle at my naivete and kiss me, talking about how he wanted a child of my body and that was more important than his ‘lucky charm’. 

That’s what he called me, his lucky charm. He claimed that I was the reason he survived all the natural disasters that were befalling the earth. I wonder what he will call me now?

Anyway, he couldn’t protect me from the darkening of the skies. I watched the sun, moon, and stars darken and I knew that someone had to know what the heck was going on. I loved my Hano, but nothing like this had ever befallen the world before the disappearances. What was going on?

My parents were atheists, and as such, they’d never had time for the Bible. I therefore had no exposure to religion or religious ideals. I was therefore shocked to hear passages from this millennia-old book that perfectly described what was happening. Under the guidance of a trusted friend and confidant, I started to delve into scripture, thirsting for the knowledge in what my mother and father used to call ‘that musty, dusty old book that has no bearing on modern life’. But it did! Suddenly the Bible was better than the daily news at predicting what was coming next for the planet! That’s when I became a believer and gave my life to Christ. 

Just before a worldwide earthquake devastated the planet. 

It was calamitous. It was horrifying to witness death in those numbers. By now, my boyfriend was all but ignoring me. He didn’t find his good luck charm so charming anymore. He even had someone on the side. Things rekindled briefly when he found out that I was pregnant. Unlike him, I was faithful. But my love died a quiet death as I got more and more into the Word of God. My true friends - I lost most of my so-called friends when I stopped ignoring the truth that had been staring me in the face my whole adult life. That’s right. As much as I wanted to blame my parents for my lack of faith, the truth was that I’d had the option to pursue the Lord. I’d just never deemed it a priority. Well, it was certainly a priority now! I spent every waking hour I could get away with feasting on the Word of God, learning what I’d missed but more importantly, preparing myself for the future judgments. With a fourth of the world’s population suddenly gone from injuries, violence, lack of resources, and survivor-guilt-related suicides, there was no longer time to bury my head in the sand and pretend that the end of the world as I knew it wasn’t upon us. 

Hail mixed with blood fell from the sky yesterday, burning up a third of the grass on the earth and I no longer deal with the justifications and taunting. I can’t handle not being able to see you on a regular basis. Having to make an appointment for a moment of your time. I’m leaving you. I don’t even know where to start with packing for such a decision. I know that I won’t need all those expensive gowns and dresses you insisted on adorning me with all these years to meet important Heads of State and dignitaries. I think one of the reasons it took me so damn long to do this is that I was afraid of what life without you would look like. But I’m already without you, aren’t I? We haven’t sat down and talked in a year. We haven’t made love since I turned up pregnant two months ago.

Toiletries, face cloths, towels, those sturdy boots I had commissioned, and a few practical sets of clothes I snuck in while you weren’t looking, weren’t caring about me except as your eventual baby-making machine. These are the things I will need to venture into the harsh world outside of your so-called love. I don’t want your idea of protection anymore. I don't want you anymore. 

You're probably wondering why I set this letter to print out on every printer in your palace. It's so that you can't make me disappear like you have so many others since I met you. Someone is going to keep this. As a joke. Out of morbid curiosity. To spite you. This is my final act of defiance before joining your enemies. I am a Christian now. A fundamentalist if you prefer. And my baby will grow up as proof that something good can come out of the shitty situation I put myself in with you. Goodbye, Hanomond Whitman. 

Ms. Saunders was caught in what was left of Paris two years later and accused of being a traitor to the state, as all Fundamentalists were. She was beheaded after three months of torture in which she refused to disclose the location of her child. His Excellency, the god Hanomond Whitman, is still unaware of the gender or location of his child. He implores anyone who does know anything about his child to come forward out of a sense of human decency and compassion. A man should know his child.