SHORT STORIES

“Moreover the law entered that the offense might abound. But where sin abounded, grace abounded much more.” (Romans 5:20)

The execution was tomorrow morning. I sat in my prison cell looking out the window wondering, daydreaming, and filling my mind with good thoughts to draw my mind away from the looming darkness that lay ahead.

But I couldn’t. Tomorrow was too near to not think about. No one had come forward. In our time, it was allowed for people, especially close family members to take up the place for their loved ones in times of execution…but no one had come forward. Even though I knew no one would, I still hoped.

I laughed. In the 13 years I had been on this earth, no one loved the other person so much they’d die for them. Mothers hid. Fathers got busy pretending to harvest unripe corn. Siblings feigned illness, spouses and supposed loved ones disappeared from the face of the earth.

But the tradition went on. Thirteen days before execution to allow for anyone to come forward. This was my 13^th day; my last day on this miserable earth. Even if anyone came forth, no one was bold enough to go through to the final stage.

In spite of my struggle, tears rolled down my face. I knew what I had done. Was it justifiable? In my little head it was. To the world? I was the devil’s first born…

They deserved to die. Both of them. Both father and son. Both of them I had called Father and Brother. They had taken away the one thing that gave me any pride. My virginity.

Ever since I was 8, I had nursed the idea of presenting them to their creator on a platter of gold. By the time of my 13^th birthday, I was ready. I made sure my face was the last thing they saw. They were already weak from the poisoned fresh water I served to them that morning.

Then slowly but surely I drove the dagger I had purchased from the pawn shop a year ago into their hearts. Hearts that were made from nothing less than dirt. They deserved this. Killing them was nothing compared to what they had done to me. They were maggots.

Yes, I was found out, but not after my “purpose” was fulfilled…

I let myself fall into a dreamless quiet sleep. Morning came and my heart beat so fast. Yes, I was scared. I didn’t want to die. Not yet. I could hear the footsteps of the guards opening the jail doors of those booked for execution. I squeezed myself tighter into my corner but they still found me and dragged me out. I tried to struggle but it was useless. One of them scoffed. There was no use.

They tied me to that formidable cross and pierced the parts of my body that needed piercing. Then from a distance, they would shoot my little heart out to make sure the job was done.

I began to cry so loudly I didn’t notice the man who stepped out of the crowd. But I heard His voice, loud and clear, “I will die for her.” What did He mean by he will die for me? The thirteen days had passed. I was already on this cross. Was this man stupid? To die in a person’s place never did make sense to me…but I hoped.

Then He said again, this time even louder, “I will die for all of them.” There were eighteen of us in number.

Silence. So deafening that when a woman’s wrapper fell we all heard the sound. I can’t tell what happened next, and I don’t know how the jailers agreed to one man for all, but I remember weeping and looking sorrowfully at the Man who saved my life. My Redeemer.

To follow the tradition which gave volunteers the opportunity to change their minds, the jail guards had beat Him mercilessly. His face was so contorted; it was pain to dare look at Him. He bled from every side. As far as I knew, no one allowed themselves to go further than the beatings. But this Man did. This Man meant business.

In a few minutes, He bowed His head and died and for me. For all of us. My whole world crumbled. It was an ultimate sacrifice I couldn’t fathom. One I could never explain. It wasn’t one done out of recognition or heroism. It was one of an immense and indescribable love. For me. For all of us. An ultimate sacrifice given even for me.