What if God was one of us?



“You still seem so…numb.”

“Well, maybe it’s the medication, doc. I don’t really understand how I’m supposed to ‘fix’ my head when I’m taking all the shit you give out here.”

“Excellent, a little hostility. Perhaps we’re starting to feel something?”

“Isn’t it a little unproductive to use sarcasm with your patient, doctor?”

They sat there looking at each other with polite smiles.

“Listen, Kate. I’m not trying to bullshit you. I’m just saying that you’re here for a reason. Let’s not waste our time.”

“Fine, then. I’ll try to be a little more exciting. For the sake of progress.”

The doctor only gestured. Begin, her hand invited.

Kate sighed. “Well, if you can't tell, I’m a little angry. I don’t see the point in anything. I fucking trust no one, and when I’m really at my worst? I think, I should be dead, and Marisa should be here. As if it couldn’t get any worse, I remember, why would I want Marisa to suffer through any more shit? Maybe I should just join her.”

The doctor held Kate’s eyes for a moment. “I can’t imagine the pain you’ve gone through. I simply want you to have hope that hope exists. I don’t expect you to have that right now. I expect you to believe that others have that hope for you. That is all. And I hope it is enough.”

Kate had been ready to retort, to build one more layer of brick through the wall of anger she had created, but something about the words the doctor had chosen caused her to pause.

What was it that Marisa had always said? We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars. Kate thought of that then.

The doctor smiled, seeing the shift on Kate’s face. “I think I’d like you to think about that for today.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Kate.”

“See ya, doc.”

Kate walked out into the hall toward the common area, unsure of what she wanted to do, unsure of what she felt. Then a soft melody coming from the TV pierced straight through her and unleashed a torrent of memories.

A female singer was plainly singing to the screen, soulful and pure. What if God was one of us? Just a slob like one of us? Just a stranger all of us trying to make our way home.

Kate walked quickly to her room, shut the door and stood on the other side. The sobs came fast and hard. The bricks fell fast and hard. The wall she so carefully kept was crumbling all around her as she slid to the floor and gave in to the grief.

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The Red Writing Hood prompt at Write on Edge this week was to write a story in which your character is inspired by music.

I have chosen to write a new scene for my book and share it here. I have written of Kate and Marisa previously here.