“The time is coming,” our spiritual leader proclaimed. “Stand tall. Know that we are the chosen ones. Heaven is ours to receive.” 

Praise arose among my brothers and sisters. We were a small group: only forty believers. The lost souls outside didn’t understand us yet, but they would soon. We were God’s crew; slowly converting skeptics with our divine acts. We all joined hands, ready for what was next.

My smile grew as I squeezed both hands in mine. I barely had a family until I found them. All I’d ever wanted was to belong; be seen.  

Here I was at twenty-four years old: loved.

Leaning my head onto Sister Lacey’s shoulder, she kissed the crown of my black wig as warmth grew within me.  

“We’ll be together forever,” she said. “Imagine that.” 

I lifted my head with a full grin. “Forever in paradise. I’m ready.”

“Bow your heads,” our leader called. “Let us pray for the Lord to deliver us to Him safely and quickly this evening.” 

Unable to stop myself, like a child on Christmas morning waiting to open gifts, I glanced up and around the room. The only rebel in a sea of bowed, black wigged heads. I tilted my head curiously, watching the leader move across the room to a small box. He made the sign of the cross before opening the lid. 

Then the fire of God burst through the room, consuming all of us instantly.

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