I saw that bumper sticker on the car in front of me and laughed. It fit my life a little too well. I had met the devil, and it wasn’t pretty. Homelessness had taken its toll. I’d seen the ugly in people I cared about, and the outside world didn’t look much better. My outlook was bleak.
Between the mess with Alex, the fights with Wade and Sonia, and being homeless in general, I learned exactly what living in hell felt like. It was ugly, and my future looked even uglier. The people I encountered along the way weren’t the kind I used to surround myself with. They were hardened, broken, untrustworthy — people on the brink of losing everything, people who had already made peace with the devil. I stopped believing in Heaven and Hell as places. They felt more like states of being, and fate decided where you landed. I was in hell. I’d been surviving there for a year, and it didn’t feel like it was anywhere close to ending.
The last thing my mother said to me was that she would pray for me and to believe in God. Believe in God? That felt like a joke. Where was God when everything fell apart? Why did I deserve to suffer? I tried to be a good person. I tried to help people when I could. I was raised in a strict Catholic home — prayers morning and night, church every Sunday. It was ingrained in me. But was it real?
How could God allow Rowan to be assaulted the way he was? He was helpless, unable to defend himself, and she beat him anyway. Where was God then? It felt like the devil had taken hold of our lives and thrown us into chaos. I prayed for help, for anything to pull me out of the fog I was drowning in. But God didn’t seem to hear me. I was surviving in hell, walking around like I owned the place. I didn’t like it, but that’s where I was.
But here’s the thing: I’m smart enough to recognize a miracle when it finally shows up. Not when I demanded it, but when the timing was right. I found a new car easily. I found an apartment that was ready for me to move into. My job was still intact. Maybe that was God’s work, because the devil certainly enjoyed my misery.
The devil had gotten his hooks in me and didn’t want to let go. But I shook him off. I’m stronger now, knowing he’s still there — just behind me, waiting for me to falter and fall back into a fresh hell he’d be more than happy to welcome me into.
I met the devil, but I didn’t stay in his house,
K.
I'm Still Here. Somehow... 