“And I only am escaped alone to tell thee.”
–Job 1:16

All morning long I had this uneasy feeling and I felt sick to my stomach.
I sat quietly in the confession booth waiting for that broken heart and torn soul to come to me and confess
their sins, pains and sorrows.

Dred and a fierce anxiety the kind I have never experienced before was before me and I could feel it in my bones, in my very soul I knew some evil spirit would come to attack me. I began to sweat heavily and the palms of my hands were wet too.

The dark soul which entered the confession booth sounded like a machine the voice was so cold and nefarious.
A cold chill shot up my spine and I wanted to vomit; I put my hand over my mouth as I heard the man curse God.
I reached for the Cross around my neck and closed my eyes and I knew in that moment it was Satan that was about to attack me. The voice that came out of this man was like no voice I have ever heard.
I was dumbfound, I could not find my voice and grace had escaped me, fear had overcome me completely, I could not even call this man my son for I knew he was the an advocate for Lucifer himself. I also knew this man had come to destroy me.

I kissed the Cross around my neck and held it tight to my lips.
The man cursed God again.
I asked the man why had he come to God’s house to blasphemy?
He laughed.
I asked him again.

I could hear him punching the palm of his hand, and then he told me he had just killed his wife of three month and her two children.

He shouted.

“LUCIFER! My eternal master do I submit myself this hour of darkness for darkness!”

I heard the clank of a gun chamber being drawn back, then an explosion.
I shuttered with fear and my ears rang from the concussion of the fired pistol.
I began to cough and was chocking and could not breathe there was a heavy odor of amonia in the air.
I could hardly breathe and I could not hear, I began to cry.
I shouted at the top of my lungs:


The doors of the confession booth would not open, my head felt like a spinning washing machine,
I felt myself slowly slip to the blood stained floor.
I heard a siren off in the distance, my head now rested on the cold wet floor and the blood of this evil man had spilled onto me.

I went into shock and then I went black.
Several days later I awoke at Cook County Hospital’s Intensive care unit.
The doctor explained to me I had a heart attack and for the first time,
I realized the siren was for me, thank God.

Charles Micheaux
Ocho Rios, Jamaica


One thought on “THE SIREN WAS FOR ME – Fiction


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