To Whom It May Concern: by M.J. Garrett (top novels txt) 📖

To Whom It May Concern:
Propaganda video once again being used as a tool to promote terror? Have we no shame?

His voice and new talent is being watched in airport terminals, restaurants, CNN, FOX News, and of course TBN. Big Haired ministers with all of their secrets, standing up behind their pulpits, yelling “Today is the day of salvation!”

People watching Benny Hinn, are wondering if he’s the author of the plague. Maybe he is passing the plague to each person he touches as they fall on the floor still…silent…dead? Either way, people pray,

God asks the cashier for more chips.

It seems that the only one with any secrets is God. God’s the house and the house always wins. If only we could see that God’s big secret is that the game is rigged. Win or lose….he wins.

*

Washington, Oregon, California, Nevada, Arizona...one by one, reaping the havoc of the sins they committed. New York, Canada, Russia, China, Europe, Brazil….in Carla we trust. Prayers are coming in from all languages.

People sliding their bets across the felt:

“Oh Lord, our savior, please keep my family safe. Please forgive me of my sins and give me strength to walk away from my evil ways.”

“Dear God, Please forgive me of the sins I have committed. I know that I shouldn’t have touched that little girl, but it was the evil inside of me. Please forgive me and give me strength to walk away.”

“Dear God, our Lord Jesus Christ, my Savior…” This prayer from the suck-up who prays out loud before the opening kickoff of the new high school football season. “…you are the Alpha and Omega, the beginning and end, the first and the last. Dear Jehovah, Lord God almighty…” Still praying without actually praying, but the crowd shakes their head in agreement.

Holding hands with strangers that stand beside them, these pedophiles, pornographers, sadists, masochists, homosexuals, and homophobes…they all hold hands and listen as the man on the microphone, who coaches the junior high swim team, prays and ask the Lord of Lords to forgive him of his sins. He prays for mercy and grace, as well as a safe trip home for the visiting team. Each person in the audience of sinners prays in their own head that God will forgive them of their sins. No one really knowing what is right or wrong, just knowing that the opinion of one has become the opinion of all. It’s sad really.

Save them from the plague…from Carla? How about “Save them from themselves.”?

God slides his stack of chips to the center of the table. Each prayer bringing another lost soul to God’s glorious side.

To Whom It May Concern:
Is it true that Heaven is only so big? How will you ever fit them all?

Mexico, Yugoslavia, Maine, Arkansas, Texas, Guam, Japan…all watching from coffee shops or the couch in the living room; all of them watching on their cell phones.

Hands link up at school, praying that God saves them from this unknown plague…the unknown Carla. Oh, so now it’s okay to pray in school?

God, sliding his chips across the table, looks at the dealer and says, “Kinda funny how S.I.D.S. is no longer the big mystery.” Laughing, he cashes in for more chips.


CHAPTER 22

He stood there beside her on top of the world. Carla, in her leather, covered in tattoo script, sitting while he stood facing away from her. Her leg swinging from the knee as it crossed the top of her other knee. The sound of the leather was like the sound of the clock he watched as a child waiting for his loving monsters, his beloved mother and step father, to meet him and his brother at the Child Protective Service Office for another trip back to home. She leaned back against the chair and lit her cigarette and smiled as she dipped her chin into her chest.

He stood there with his arms crossed. His coat and tie slowly waving in the wind, as he thought about how to discuss the new found religion; their new purpose.

“Do you know what it’s like to pass by each person with their secret lives being revealed? Each horrible secret is being revealed like pictures in a fucking photo album.” She spoke softly and tapped the ash from her cigarette. “These people have no soul, no compassion, and no hope. It’s sad really. Believe it or not, Nate, I’m saving them.”

Still standing there, he takes a deep breath and asked her, “Who are you saving, Carla? Are you saving them, their victims, or just you?”

“I’m saving them all. I’m saving us. You sift through your life and play god all the time. You don’t even understand the power you have.” Bouncing her foot up and down, she blew the smoke out of her mouth. Getting up from the chair, she walks over and stands beside him. Her Savior, his Savior…his secrets, her secrets.

“You said that you didn’t understand any of this. You said that you didn’t know if this was even reality. Well, I’m tired of living in my reality.” She stood there and pointed into the infinite nothing that was the world, trying to convince him like a game show host boasting about the possible once in a life time prize he could win.

To Whom It May Concern:
I’ll take door #2. Just don’t try to talk me out of it.

Standing there, in all her leather, looking as beautiful and strong, looking like the girl he never knew, with her hand stretched out trying to sell this to him, she said, “You hide in your life and chose which life to change. You think you have the world figured out and your dreams are just the beginning. You think that your purpose is to fix your past, but you have no clue how to do it.”

He turned to look at her. Her hair pulled tightly into the braided pigtails. Small strands of hair blew across her face as her newly found confidence radiated from her tattooed skin. Her shoulders, arms, chest, and neck…covered with black ink.

“I think you need to embrace the gift given to you. You saved me, Nate. You gave me something to live for…to die for.”

“What did I give you?” He quickly snapped at her as he looked out over the world.

“You gave me purpose. You made me remember. You made me understand.” Standing there, she smiled with her hands on her hips. “We have the power to change the world! We have to power to save our children…to save the world. We have the power to take life from those that waste it. It’s our calling, Nate. No one else has this power! We need to embrace it.”
“What do you mean?” He asked. “Embrace what? Embrace the power to flash through time, the power to take the lives at our own will, the power to play god? I just want a normal life and I wanted it with you. Everything has a price. We will have to pay for our sins. Maybe we are judged for the things we don’t do.”

“There is no normal!” She arrogantly laughed, “What is so good about normal? Is it normal to go to work and come home? No goals, no ideas, no love, no life…just normal? We have the power to take back all of the things that we deserved that someone else stole from us, we can take it back.”

“What about those people all over the world?” I asked her “This plague, this curse of Carla. People dropping all over the world…dead! What about them? I’m trying to save them and you are trying to kill them!?”

“Save them? From what?! Don’t be a fool, Nate.” She shakes her head in disgust and then vanishes.
Carla, the angel of death. Carla, my Savior, my love, my god…my enemy.

To Whom It May Concern:
I’m wondering if chasing Carla is the best thing…too bad there is no rule book, although that asshole shape shifting man said there was.

*

Nate, standing there frozen, watching his younger version sneak through the dark kitchen. It’s 2:08 in the morning. He watches as the young boy tip toes his way across the linoleum, stopping to peek over his shoulder for danger. Little Nate, this stupid little boy who can’t seem to figure things out, opens the trash can and fishes out the empty can of strawberry icing that his beloved mother used for her little messiah’s birthday cake. He opens up the lid and the smell of strawberry fills his nose.

Peeking over his shoulder again, he sees nothing. He hears nothing. Nate’s little index finger rubs the inside of the can of icing and he puts his little dirty finger, covered with pink deliciousness, into his mouth and closes his eyes; savoring the moment not meant for him to have. Nate begins to smile. This is the first meal he has had in four days.

Thank you, Master, for helping me keep my boyish figure.

The familiar voice echoes down the hallway from the darkness. “You little sneaky shit! Didn’t I tell you that you weren’t going to eat until you admit what you did?” He slowly walked down the hallway towards the boy, the younger version of me, “You’re hungry? Do you want to eat something…to taste something? You want something in your mouth? Get your ass in the bathroom…and bring the icing!!”

Standing there in the bathroom, the light flickers on and off until the 40 watt bulb finally stays on with the buzz of electricity filling the room. Fearless roaches crawl on the walls and sink as if they don’t care that we are here. My almighty Savior, my hero, my hatred puts his stiffness in the can of icing and wipes the sides clean. Standing there holding himself, he grabs the boy by the hair and starts rubbing his stiffness all over his face. His eye lashes pasted together by the icing, his hair being pulled tight with by step dad’s fingers, his nose wet from pink strawberry goodness, and his jaw clinched so tight that his mouth won’t open.
That was me. I am the little stupid boy.

Standing there frozen in my black suit, I hear the door of the bathroom slowly creak open. My brother walks in rubbing his eyes from the sleep and dreams that make life a little easier. Standing there, paused, he looks at me and then looks at my master.

Enraged, he screams and lunges toward us. He’s yelling and swinging fists, clawing at my master. My almighty Savior grabs me and pulls me away. My loving, adoring, father figure grabs my brother by the neck and begins to squeeze. Step dad reaches into his back