The Reason 2

I decided not to talk to him yet. I knew that Pastor Tim would never take me seriously or that he would pray for me. Maybe prayer is what I needed. I told myself that it was just all in my imagination; what I saw in my dreams that night. I told myself that It had to be a nightmare because Tim was a holy man; a devoted man of God and he could never be associated with such evil acts.

I went on about the week’s tasks in silent denial pretending that everything was alright. But it wasn’t. Every since I was a child, I have had visions of the present unkown, and the future to be. This is the best way of explaining what I went through. I have watched people I love die in my dreams at night and then die again some time later in reality. Over time, when I would awake from my dreams I knew I was helpless and heartbroken. I hated my dreams. I kept thinking that maybe, just maybe…I could make it stop. Somehow or someway, I could find a way to prevent what was going to happen; or in Pastor Tim’s case, help him redeem his soul from the curse. Why else would God give me the abilities unless I was meant to use them for good…right?

The time had come for me to take a stand for what was right and fullfill my purpose in this sick and twisted premonition. I had to know the truth, firtst off, and then I had to know what my part in this play was. After the revival was over on Friday night, I waited in the bathroom for the congregation to leave. I was going to follow Pastor Tim and find out where he went after church. Tonight was a full moon and according to Hollywood; Tim would change tonight and I would be able to catch it on film.

With my mini camcorder in my purse, I crouched in the tiny little bathroom in the back of the church. I heard whispers among the remaining congregation as they shook pastor Tim’s hand and left . Within minutes we were alone. Something strange and stagnant floated in the air above me. This was not normal and it did not feel right; but I waited none-the-less.

I watched him through a very small crack in the bathroom door as he returned to the pulpit. He was very handsome despite the fine lines of character on his face; highlighted by the flourescent lights of the stage. His hair was brown and his eyes were soft and almost black. Stubble had begun to cover his face and it appeared as though he was a very tired man. Tim was not tall neither was he short and even though he always wore a suit; you could see a very nice and defined body underneath.

He paced back and forth in front of the wooden podium and and ran his fingers through his hair. It did not appear to me that he would be taking his leave anytime soon. I grew impatient and I fingered the shutter on the camera. “Come on come on…lets go.” Sweat beaded on my forehead and my hands began to shake. Suddenly, without warning Pastor Tim stopped pacing and stared toward my hiding place.

“You can come out now, dear.”