Gizlam
12-13-2010, 11:26 AM
Hi
This is a piece based on the bible story 'Elisha's bears'. If you are aware of this story I have dramatised for maximum effect I am well aware of the translation of the word for children is used to mean young men aswell. I am also Christian this is not an attack on christianity. I just thought the story was excellent and would serve well as a basis for a short story. I'll get on with it now :D.
Elisha’s Bears
The road stretched out for eons in front of me. I had left Jericho that morning and had spent many hours sweltering along the pass to Bethel. Like a dot-to-dot puzzle I moved in straight lines from the shade of one tree to the other and measured my progress in such a way. Thirty trees so far. I had heard from many that Bethel was worshiping a false idol, a golden image of a calf, and was heading that way to spread the word of our Lord God. This was done in the hopes that I would be able to salvage some of the damned souls. It would take several days to reach Bethel on foot but I walked with the pride that I was doing God’s work. I was chosen after all. A prophet.
Two trees bent over like haggard, desolate beggars. Their branches touched gingerly consoling one another on life’s blows. They created a long stretched out shadow in the rapidly disappearing light and I decided to make camp between their roots. Once settled I lit a fire to keep away the bears from the forest I would soon be entering and to keep warm. I chewed a little bread to keep me sustained, however, not too much or I would have been flouting the gifts the Lord had given me. I prayed for the souls of Bethel, asked God for his guidance and Elijah for his advice. Revitalised I slept knowing that I had the divine’s support, feeling warmer than the fire could have ever made me.
I awoke early, conscious of the journey to be made. Opening the canteen I begun to clean myself as was my daily ritual. I covered up my balding head with a cloth to keep off the sun and left my camp site like I had never been there. The path was still long but I could see ahead a forest which would shade me from the sharp, oppressive sun so I quickened my pace. By mid-afternoon I was cocooned in the cooling shade of the forest’s pass. I stopped for a prayer and removed the cloth from my head as it was not needed away from the overbearing warmth.
Further along the path I begun to see a group of children, the closer I became to them the more there seemed to be. Until I was quite sure it could be described as large gang. I had preached to many more people than had gathered up the pass, however, I knew they would be from Bethel and would not welcome me. Worry began to wind its restrictive feelings around my form causing me to focus only on the children and their loitering behaviour. Once I was in hearing distance I began to distinguish the mumblings of conspiracy and small low pitch whispers. Unable to determine what they were discussing I grew paranoid and felt my cheeks burn already in a mix of embarrassment and anger. It wasn’t until I was almost passing the gang that my paranoia was justified.
‘Go up, you baldhead!’ Shouted one particularly rough looking youth.
The others laughed and joined in with the heckling. I pulled the cloth again around my balding head which seemed only to entice them even more. I had revealed a weakness and they weren’t going to back down now. The taunting continued with increasingly rude and un-godly variations of the first heckle until I snapped. I turned to the mass and cursed them.
‘God’ I exclaimed. ‘Will have his vengeance on you spiteful youths’
They laughed at this. I flushed what I can only imagine was a deep maroon red while they cackled at my outburst.
Suddenly I heard a growling noise behind the children who heard it also, the laughing stopped. But it was too late. Two large bears erupted from the shade almost immediately. I darted back and scampered far up into one of the trees. The gang however were not so lucky. The two bears took to mauling blindly in a rage like fashion which meant none of the children were safe. I sat horrified at what was happening. Each child was bludgeoned, torn, bitten and ripped apart as the bears took out their vendetta. God’s vendetta. I vomited as I was forced to watch the sequence of events I had begun. By cursing these children I had murdered them gruesomely. My God had destroyed the gang and took vengeance just as I had asked.
They continued the massacre until all were either dead or on the verge of it. After the two bears slipped away into the forest apparently calmed. I however stayed in the tree, eyes closed, praying until the last whimper died out. Only then did I climb down and attempt to stand. Instead I fell to my knees next to the particularly mouthy child which had started the ruckus. In God’s own ironic humour he was now missing his bottom jaw. I was ashamed of myself as I thought over my rash curse of such children. Most likely innocent only egged to do such a thing by one or two. There was no forgiveness. Not the type I had taught to have by the church.
Forty-two bodies lay in the pass. I daren’t move or even touch them for fearing God would punish my pity. Forty-two families now had lost children. Forty-two mothers would pine for their child tonight. When discovered, the whole of Bethel would grieve and be at a loss for their youth. Sure there would be plenty more children and plenty more parents willing to create more. These were real people though, not numbers, animals or plants. They meant something to the world. I sat stunned between the bodies smelling the stench of blood, death, excrement and wasted life.
I had to move on for what else could I do. Being a prophet was my purpose in life. All I had. Just because God had killed the children, that didn’t mean I could just abandon him. I sat for a while under the tree, by the bodies, then slowly I picked myself up tied the cloth about my balding head and carried on. Along the long path that led to Bethel.
This is a piece based on the bible story 'Elisha's bears'. If you are aware of this story I have dramatised for maximum effect I am well aware of the translation of the word for children is used to mean young men aswell. I am also Christian this is not an attack on christianity. I just thought the story was excellent and would serve well as a basis for a short story. I'll get on with it now :D.
Elisha’s Bears
The road stretched out for eons in front of me. I had left Jericho that morning and had spent many hours sweltering along the pass to Bethel. Like a dot-to-dot puzzle I moved in straight lines from the shade of one tree to the other and measured my progress in such a way. Thirty trees so far. I had heard from many that Bethel was worshiping a false idol, a golden image of a calf, and was heading that way to spread the word of our Lord God. This was done in the hopes that I would be able to salvage some of the damned souls. It would take several days to reach Bethel on foot but I walked with the pride that I was doing God’s work. I was chosen after all. A prophet.
Two trees bent over like haggard, desolate beggars. Their branches touched gingerly consoling one another on life’s blows. They created a long stretched out shadow in the rapidly disappearing light and I decided to make camp between their roots. Once settled I lit a fire to keep away the bears from the forest I would soon be entering and to keep warm. I chewed a little bread to keep me sustained, however, not too much or I would have been flouting the gifts the Lord had given me. I prayed for the souls of Bethel, asked God for his guidance and Elijah for his advice. Revitalised I slept knowing that I had the divine’s support, feeling warmer than the fire could have ever made me.
I awoke early, conscious of the journey to be made. Opening the canteen I begun to clean myself as was my daily ritual. I covered up my balding head with a cloth to keep off the sun and left my camp site like I had never been there. The path was still long but I could see ahead a forest which would shade me from the sharp, oppressive sun so I quickened my pace. By mid-afternoon I was cocooned in the cooling shade of the forest’s pass. I stopped for a prayer and removed the cloth from my head as it was not needed away from the overbearing warmth.
Further along the path I begun to see a group of children, the closer I became to them the more there seemed to be. Until I was quite sure it could be described as large gang. I had preached to many more people than had gathered up the pass, however, I knew they would be from Bethel and would not welcome me. Worry began to wind its restrictive feelings around my form causing me to focus only on the children and their loitering behaviour. Once I was in hearing distance I began to distinguish the mumblings of conspiracy and small low pitch whispers. Unable to determine what they were discussing I grew paranoid and felt my cheeks burn already in a mix of embarrassment and anger. It wasn’t until I was almost passing the gang that my paranoia was justified.
‘Go up, you baldhead!’ Shouted one particularly rough looking youth.
The others laughed and joined in with the heckling. I pulled the cloth again around my balding head which seemed only to entice them even more. I had revealed a weakness and they weren’t going to back down now. The taunting continued with increasingly rude and un-godly variations of the first heckle until I snapped. I turned to the mass and cursed them.
‘God’ I exclaimed. ‘Will have his vengeance on you spiteful youths’
They laughed at this. I flushed what I can only imagine was a deep maroon red while they cackled at my outburst.
Suddenly I heard a growling noise behind the children who heard it also, the laughing stopped. But it was too late. Two large bears erupted from the shade almost immediately. I darted back and scampered far up into one of the trees. The gang however were not so lucky. The two bears took to mauling blindly in a rage like fashion which meant none of the children were safe. I sat horrified at what was happening. Each child was bludgeoned, torn, bitten and ripped apart as the bears took out their vendetta. God’s vendetta. I vomited as I was forced to watch the sequence of events I had begun. By cursing these children I had murdered them gruesomely. My God had destroyed the gang and took vengeance just as I had asked.
They continued the massacre until all were either dead or on the verge of it. After the two bears slipped away into the forest apparently calmed. I however stayed in the tree, eyes closed, praying until the last whimper died out. Only then did I climb down and attempt to stand. Instead I fell to my knees next to the particularly mouthy child which had started the ruckus. In God’s own ironic humour he was now missing his bottom jaw. I was ashamed of myself as I thought over my rash curse of such children. Most likely innocent only egged to do such a thing by one or two. There was no forgiveness. Not the type I had taught to have by the church.
Forty-two bodies lay in the pass. I daren’t move or even touch them for fearing God would punish my pity. Forty-two families now had lost children. Forty-two mothers would pine for their child tonight. When discovered, the whole of Bethel would grieve and be at a loss for their youth. Sure there would be plenty more children and plenty more parents willing to create more. These were real people though, not numbers, animals or plants. They meant something to the world. I sat stunned between the bodies smelling the stench of blood, death, excrement and wasted life.
I had to move on for what else could I do. Being a prophet was my purpose in life. All I had. Just because God had killed the children, that didn’t mean I could just abandon him. I sat for a while under the tree, by the bodies, then slowly I picked myself up tied the cloth about my balding head and carried on. Along the long path that led to Bethel.