Short Stories

Quarantine Dreams

                              @god, just hear me out

These days, everyday feels the same. I wake up, I spend an obnoxious amount of time on the internet, and I go to sleep. Twitter has been my main source of entertainment. This is where I go to spill my guts about how exhausted I am of the routine, and how the number of deaths have been affecting me. Some of these deaths include my family members. Recently, my uncle passed away from the same virus that has made our lives a living nightmare. And although it may not seem like it, I do try my hardest not to complain. 

Lately, I’ve been putting all of my faith in the Lord. At night, when I say that I’m going to bed, I usually stay up an extra hour saying my prayers. I pray for my uncle, for my sanity, for all of the others who are suffering. I know that there is a reason why god is doing this, so I ask him. “Is this a test, god? How do we pass it?” I say, laying in my room, in complete darkness. These four walls have housed me enough days to know how desperate I am to leave them. I sometimes wonder if god feel this. If he can sense the agony in my prayers. Does he see what this is doing to me? Will it drive me insane at some point? Is this his plan for me? Anything he has in store I will trust and welcome.

This afternoon, I woke up and engaged in my usual routine. I scrolled aimlessly through my twitter when a random tweet caught my attention. 

It read, “I don’t know how people still believe that there is a god when all this shit is happening.”  

I looked at it for a while, rereading it over and over, each time becoming a little bit more furious. How could someone think like this? This is exactly why this is happening. This is why god is testing us. This was god’s way of answering my prayer and I knew it, I felt it. Something came over me. It was an agonizing feeling, yet at the same time I felt it freeing me. I knew I had to say something. 

I sent over a dm to this @recepty guy. 

“Yo bro, I know you don’t know me but wtf is that last tweet about? You’re gonna seriously sit there and say you don’t believe in god for social media likes?”

I waited anxiously for a reply. Two minutes passed by and still, nothing. My palms were sweating yet my hands felt cold. I knew this too was another sign from god. I needed to say more.

I started anxiously and ferociously typing on my keyboard, sweaty, angry. I told him that he was the one who needed to be sacrificed by god, he was the problem, the root of all evil happening to this world. It is because of people like him that my uncle and thousands of others had died. 

Still, I got no reply. 

The next day, I decided to go through his twitter, to see if he was ignoring me. He wasn’t.

I found a few of his friends and when I clicked on them, they were tweeting about this same @recepty guy. 

“RIP @recepty” one tweet read, followed by a thread of pictures and stories about him. 

My heart sunk. I couldn’t believe that the guy was dead. Was it my doing? Did God listen to me yet again? Was I right? Was this a sign?

I couldn’t wrap my head around what was happening. Again, my palms became sweaty, cold, shaky.

I couldn’t think straight. I sent a tweet about what I had done. 

I had killed @recepty. I told god to kill him and he did. He listened.

Soon after, everyone noticed. The tweets started coming in, I was now labeled a bully. 

“A grown ass man on the internet, bullying another grown ass man, over bible verses?” 

“Wtf is wrong with you???”

The tweets wouldn’t stop coming in.

I knew I did the right thing, though. I killed the one who deserved it most. God told me so.

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