There Are Bigger Things Happening

The angel visited her while she slept, and her life would never be the same.

He had come to her while she slept to tell her the grand purpose she was to serve. She remembered every word the angel had said. Every sentence that he whispered into her ears. It was her duty, her honor to be the second mother of Christ. She’d woken her husband immediately, joyful and eager to tell him what happened. He tried to tell her it was a dream, but she knew better. How could something so beautiful, so glorious, ever be just a dream. 

                The job she worked was dull and lifeless, and hardly the kind of place for the woman who would be responsible for Christ’s second coming. Her boss had taken her resignation with a scoff, insistent that she would be back. But there was no reason in her mind for her to return to the horrid desk job. She was part of a bigger plan, something beyond this Earth. She was going to be a part of something that would change the entire world.

                Her husband shouted at her when he heard that she’d quit. Demanded to know how they were going to pay rent and feed themselves without the extra paycheck. She did her to reassure him, to tell him that it was all under control, that there was a higher power at work. But he wouldn’t listen. He called her crazy, told her she’d gone completely mad. Yelled that she wasn’t even a virgin so there was no reason for her to be picked out of everyone else in this world.

                They slept in separate rooms that night for the first time since their marriage two years ago. She told herself that it would be okay. He could come around eventually. Joseph hadn’t believed Mary at first. God would send another to tell him the truth. The angels came to her every night, so why wouldn’t they be able to take the extra time to speak to her husband as well. God would make it all work out, he always did. Even if it took time, it would be okay.

                Then the van came. It was white, with barred windows. Large red crosses were painted on the sides like hospital signs, but they seemed out of place. It had pulled into the drive shortly after her husband had come home from work. “Joe? There’s someone here?” she wandered from the living room and into the kitchen where he sat on the table, a newspaper spread in front of him.

                He let out a soft huff, looking up at her from under the round lenses of his glasses. “I know Amia, I called them here.” He got up, walking towards her. “You need help, this can’t go on any longer.”

                She shook her head, backing herself against the kitchen sink. “What do you mean?” Her eyes were wide in a mix of terror and anger. “What’s going on?”

                “They’re going to take you somewhere far away from here. Where you can get better, Amia.” His face was lit with worry as he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into his chest. “I’m so worried about you, I can’t let this go on.” The words were muffled by her hair as he pressed his lips against her. “I’m so sorry.”

                He released her just as the men appeared, four of them, all in clean white scrubs. They were covered in tattoos and riddled with scars. Every last one of them seemed to have spent hours working out. Joe didn’t stop them when they grabbed at her, wrapping their arms around hers as they pulled her toward the door. “Please no!” Her voice rose into a desperate wail as her arms and legs flailed out at the men. They held her tighter, taking every blow from her legs and feet as if they were nothing at all. “Please, you can’t do this!” her wails grew louder, turning into nothing more than a constant scream.

                Joe kept his head down, refusing to look up at the scene. Tears fell from his eyes on the checkered linoleum of the floor. “I’m so sorry Amia. I just want to save you.” He muttered, barely audible amongst her cries. It only took a few minutes for her to be dragged out of the room and forced into the waiting van. As soon as she was inside she felt the needle bury itself in her arm. And then slowly her body gave up, falling limp beneath her as if she were a doll, and then everything became black.

 

*   *   *

 

It was Dr. Allin Purzycki himself that answered the husbands desperate call. The man had been frantic, obviously crying on the other end as he begged for something to be done for his wife. It took all his will power for Dr. Purzycki to not let out a joyful cry. The woman’s condition was Grandiose Delusions for sure, an illness he’d only witnessed once.

                He had never dreamed of having a patient admitted for the disorder. It was common in all people to a minor degree and major cases rarely occurred. But by the husband’s description the young woman was devoted to her false greatness. It was almost too perfect that such a patient should come into his hands.

                “We’ll send someone out for her right away Sir.” He muttered into the phone, jotting down a series of notes onto the paper in front of him. “I assure you this is the best decision you could possibly be making. We’ll take good care of her here.” He pressed down the lever on the phone, immediately shifting his fingers to plug in the number for the nurse’s station downstairs.

                He gave them the address and the name, with instructions to do anything that was necessary to ensure the woman would become a patient. If the husband was to attempt to change his mind he was to be subdued and added to the collection as well. It didn’t matter what happened in that house, as long as he had this ‘Mother of Christ’. She would be his prize, and he would see to her care personally.