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The Execution Of A Demon

Sometimes Fighting Hell Is Your Only Way Out

By Jayres GreenPublished 3 years ago 28 min read

Why can’t I just die? Troy sobbed, sticking his fingers deep into his mouth, plunging them into the warm, wet tissue in the back of his throat. With a full-body wretch, the last of the pills he had swallowed spewed out. Please, let me die. He laid his head against the toilet bowl, a long cry escaping his lips. Mucus dripped from his nose and drool ran from his mouth, both joining the procession of tears that fell into the bowl beneath his face. The smell of bile burnt his nose. His lips curled away from his teeth.

“Die. Don’t die. Really, no one cares,” Sam spoke in a flat tone void of all concern. This apparition had bonded to him years ago. No matter how hard he tried, there was no lasting escape. “Are we done here?” Sam hopped off the sink and paced behind him. “Are you done? Can we go?” he nagged.

Troy’s hatred of Sam coursed through his bones. Just leave me alone.

"What was that?" Sam smirked as he looked back at him.

"Get out of my head!" Troy yelled. Though, he knew Sam could hear him whether he yelled, whispered, or even thought it. "Just let me die." He closed his eyes and sobbed with limbs and porcelain tangled in a dependent embrace. His body shook as he sucked air in quick, desperate gasps. Dizziness overtook the light, and his body fell unconscious.

Troy woke up. His head and neck throbbed from hours of being pressed against the edge of the vanity. The toilet, completely void of judgment, still cradled his lower extremities. This porcelain fixture was the one sure thing he could count on. It was always there for him, always held him when he was at his weakest, never told him how worthless he was. Truthfully, this toilet was his best friend. He brought his hand up, gently laying it against the cool surface, hoping the seat would be strong enough to pull him up one more time. Each muscle in his body opposed movement from his awkward position more than the last. His hands trembled as they helped unwrap and straighten his long legs, his arms ached under the weight of sliding his body around. His back protested as he laid flat against the floor. Feeling the edges of his mouth and the acidic crust that formed around his lips, his tongue jerked back with disgust. The strong stench of urine was the apex of his pathetic life.

"There he is, " Sam smiled as Troy blinked him into focus. He sat gracefully on top of the open door, legs crossed, toes swinging back and forth. "Real touch and go kind of night," he laughed, mocking Troy.

Troy groaned, pulling his arm up to cover his eyes from the vanity’s increasingly bright light and Sam’s chilling gaze. Sam jumped from his perch and leaned into the mirror staring at his reflection, admiring his perfect beauty. He slowly traced the outline of his lip with his finger, moving his head side to side in a provocative roll.

“Oh, come on. Lighten up! I know a guy that can take the edge off in exchange for a little slap and tickle.” Sam grabbed the outer edges of his robe and twirled with a wink.

“Can he kill you and leave me in peace?” Troy asked, sarcasm biting each word.

Sam squinted, planting his feet on either side of Troy and leaned close. “I can not be killed. Not as long as I live right here,” Sam jabbed his finger into Troy’s temple and pushed his head away. He sniffed the air between them and scowled. “You disgust me.” A blast of air blew over Troy, and Sam was gone.

Troy closed his eyes and enjoyed the moment. It wasn’t often that Sam left him. Truthfully, it scared him to be alone, even when the alternative was a demon bent on his demise. A deep rumble cut through the silence and his belly ached. I need food.

It had taken all his strength and a few more rumbles from his persistent gut to pull him off the floor. The man who stared back at him from the dingy mirror was unrecognizable. His skin sunk in around dark circled eyes. The cheekbones he had always been proud of, now protruded in a sickening fashion. His hair, greasy and matted, clung to his scalp. He pulled his shirt off and peeled the urine-soaked pants from his body, kicking them away. He stared at his reflection and the marks covering what had once been smooth muscle.

How much worse can it get? He thought he had hit bottom when Sarah died. Eight years of love, trust, companionship, erased in a moment of poor judgment, his poor judgment. The winding road flashed in his mind, dark and slick. Sarah’s laugh filled the car the way it always did. Her fingers softly combed through his hair. He was eager to get her home. He couldn’t wait to press his lips against hers, to feel her legs wrap tightly around him. The thought of it all pushed his foot heavier against the gas pedal. His tires broke traction, and he lost control. The EMTs told him she had been killed on impact, though even now, he could hear her scream and see her eyes move to meet his. Her head partially through the blood-covered windshield. Troy closed his eyes. There was nothing left in him to grieve.

This, this was much lower than the bottom. Sarah would be appalled by who he had become.


Troy had set out to pick up a pizza. That five-dollar pie would have fed him for the next couple of days. How he got to the top of this rock overlooking the crash site perplexed him. He sat, mindlessly twirling an empty needle between his fingers staring at the tree that ended it all.

“I knew I’d find you here,” Sam said. He effortlessly ascended the embankment behind Troy and patted his shoulder. “How charming that you would come here on our anniversary.”

Troy blinked at him speaking in slurred tones. “I'm not celebrating you. I am-”, he gestured towards the curved road and full tree below. “It should have been me,” Troy whispered, placing the needle back into his pouch.

Sam's body shook in delight. "Oh, we got the good stuff today! I can't wait to see where this will take us."

Troy laid back and let the drug take over as Sam danced around him. Soon, he wouldn’t care about Sam, the tree, or this place.


Troy’s mind snapped into full focus as he was running down a narrow wooded path. The last thing he remembered was Sam pulling him into the street as a truck drove closer and closer to their position. He broke free and curled down tight as the truck passed, horn blaring. Sweat poured from his head and down his back. He had no idea how long he had been running or where he was. All he knew was the snapping branches and falling leaves from the trees behind him announced an impending attack. He had to keep running. He needed to find somewhere safe, fast!

The path opened up into a clearing. The moonlight beckoned him forward, exposing a small church just ahead. Troy ran with all his might and threw his body against the doors hoping they would open. The old door swung wide and swallowed him into its safety.

“You can’t stay in there forever,” Sam's slender silhouette crept over the windows. “You’ll have to come out eventually, and when you do, I’ll be waiting.”

Troy listened for a long moment. Silence. He felt sick. This quiet was heavy, like the pause just before a predator launches onto its prey. He was exhausted, physically and mentally. His arms felt heavy; his mind spent with emotion. The long pew invited him into its soft, warm cushion, pulling him down into its embrace the way a mother does her crying child. He closed his eyes and tucked his feet tight against his body. A long exhale escaped his parted lips, and his mind abandoned consciousness.


Kane watched as Troy stumbled into the old church. The man seemed disoriented, paranoid. He watched as the man jumped with the creaking of the floor beneath his own feet, yelling at the shadows cast over the windows by the large oak that grew near the corner of the building. He watched as Troy laid sobbing on the back pew before giving in to a deep sleep.

Kane knew an addict when he saw one. He himself had been an addict for most of his life. This man awoke memories Kane had kept buried deep inside. Seventeen years sober now, he was once that man sleeping in the back. He placed his hand on the aged wooden beam and leaned his forehead against it. This place saved him, and he was grateful for it. He took a deep, thankful breath for the new life he had been given and retrieved a blanket from the front.

Troy didn’t move as Kane covered him and held his ankle. “It’ll get better, brother,” Kane whispered. “We can fight this together.” Kane pulled a chair over and prepared for the long night ahead.


The sun broke through the stained glass and Troy jerked awake, almost falling off the pew. He ran his hand over the blanket puzzled.

“Coffee?” An older man started his way with two steaming cups not waiting for a response. His light blue shirt was tucked tight into well-pressed slacks. A simple golden cross hung around his neck. He must be the pastor. Oh sh-

“I’m sorry!” Troy jumped up embarrassed. He knew he didn’t belong here. He wasn’t even sure why he came to this place or how long he had been here. He quickly folded the blanket that had covered him and laid it over the seat in front of him with a gentle pat. “I’m sorry. I’ll leave now.”

“Sit,” the old man smiled. “Have some coffee with me.”

Troy took the cup quickly, almost knocking it to the floor. He appreciated the warmth it offered but felt out of place in this man's presence.

"I'm Kane. And you are?" His eyes were intensely locked. Troy felt bare as though this man saw everything he was.

"I'm... um...Troy. My name is Troy. "

“What brings you here Troy?” Kane shot right to the point. He never was one for small talk or pleasantries.

“I’m sorry. I know I don’t belong here. It’s just that-”

“Why don’t you think you belong here?” Kane’s piercing gaze made Troy’s chin quiver and sweat bead down his underarms.

“I’m not like you, ok,” Troy spoke louder than he intended as he stood and paced the short distance between them. “I shouldn’t be here.”

“So you’ve said. Sit.” Kane patted the pew and waited until Troy plopped back down. “Do you think only those without a hellish past are welcome here? Only those that don’t have ghosts or demons trying to wreck them?”

“You know nothing of demons,” Troy’s eyes followed the wood grain between his feet, and he mindlessly traced the edge of the cup with his thumbnail.

Kane watched Troy. His heart tore for this broken man. He leaned forward laying his coffee cup under his seat and rolled up his sleeves. Troy shifted his focus to Kane as he gently touched each scar covering his arms, some barely visible, others creating deep, jagged gorges.

“Some of these I don’t even remember. I’ve lost count of how many times I slid a blade across my skin and watched deep pools of my blood spill over just to feel some sort of control over my life. But this-” Kane stretched his left arm forward and twisted it up. Dark purple furrows ran long. “-this, I remember well. This particular night, I was completely loaded. The face of each person I gunned down stood in front of me reminding me of what a monster I was. The echo of my brothers being blown to bits, nothing took away the screams-theirs or mine. My demon handed me a rusted out license plate laying in the junk pile near where I had fallen. He grabbed my wrist and helped me dig it deep into my arm. The plate was rusted and brittle. It crumbled in my hands as I jerked it up. It bit at and tore its way through my skin. It burnt so bad I knew for sure I was finally dead and hell’s fire was pulling me under,” Kane’s deep voice cracked as he slowly ran his fingers over the jagged scar.

Troy sat speechless. He had never talked so openly with anyone, but this man spoke to him as if they had known one another for a lifetime. This preacher man poured out his own personal hell. Troy always felt so alone, not knowing there were others who had deeper struggles than him.

"How? How did you escape him? Your demon?" Troy leaned close begging for the answer.

"I didn't," Kane locked eyes with him. "I executed him."

Troy's mouth fell open in stunned disbelief. He wanted more. Every detail, every moment Kane lived and how he, as he put it, ‘executed his demon’.

“Tell me everything,” Troy said. A slight shake took to his hands and a deep itch rose through his legs. “Tell me now.”

Kane spared no detail. The graphic recount of his time as a foot soldier in Nam made Troy feel small for assuming this man didn’t know heartache or pain. Kane’s addiction started first in a bottle trying to chase the nightmares away. But they came back stronger and stronger pushing him into a world of experimental drugs with easy access in the foreign land. He tried and used anything that he could get his hands on to erase the faces, the screams, the feel of blood spraying his face and arms. The things he had to do to survive the jungle left him a shell of a man. Once stateside, worlds away from the atrocities he had witnessed, a new kind of war had begun. Now, he was the enemy. People moved away from him as if he were a disease they might catch by making eye contact, or God forbid, touch him. Some spat on him. All reminded him that he would have been better off dead. His addiction intensified as did the night terrors. He felt hopeless and alone.

Kane’s eyes blurred with the tears swelling over as he traced the scars lining his wrists reminding him of his many attempts at silencing all the noise. He looked up at Troy who sat awkwardly, mouth gaped open, perfectly frozen except for the shake vibrating his fingers.

“Are you alright?” Kane asked sincerely. Civilians usually couldn’t stomach such harsh accounts. He learned that many years ago.

“Please, don’t stop. I need to know,” Troy spoke barely louder than a whisper.

Kane went back to the scar from the license plate and held his hand over it. “I thought I was finally dead that night. A man passing by on the road stopped and called 911 as he tightly wrapped my arm with the shirt he had been wearing. I begged him to let me die, but instead, he held me. Told me I was worth saving, that my life meant something. Then, he did something completely unexpected. He started to sing. It was absolutely the weirdest thing that has ever happened, but at that moment, I had never felt such peace.” He stopped and took a deep breath.

“What about you?” Kane pointed to the track marks on Troy’s arm. “What’s your story?”

Troy nervously bounced his leg. He wasn’t sure what to say or if he could say anything. He grabbed his sleeve and tried to pull it low, but there was no use. “I...uh... My wife died. She was the love of my life, you know?” Troy stopped. His problems felt foolish compared to the obstacles Kane had overcome. But there was something about this man, or maybe this place, that made him want to finally lay it all out. He rose to his feet, and his coffee cup tumbled to the floor. “What am I supposed to do? It’s my fault she’s dead. I killed her! I killed my Sarah!” He fell weeping. Kane squatted next to him and squeezed his shoulder as he mourned his wife, all the missed moments, everything that could have been, and everything he had become in incoherent discourse. They sat for a long moment, connected by sorrow.

“Loneliness can be crippling,” Kane said, breaking the silence.

“I wish I were alone,” Troy confessed. “I think it would be easier.” He pulled the skin beside his thumbnail to avoid eye contact with Kane. “Sam came to me after Sarah died. You said your demon tried to kill you? Mine enjoys bringing me to the very brink of death but won’t let me die. He revels in his work. There’s no escaping him.”

Kane straightened his posture. “You came here alone. Correct? " He asked in a calm, even tone.

"You don't understand. He's always there," Troy whispered. "No matter where I go, he's there."

"Is he here now?" Kane asked again.

Troy's brows wrinkled towards one another and his jaw tightened. He instinctively brought his hand to his face, rubbing the scruff under his chin. "I… No. No, he's not.” Troy sat back in disbelief. His face softened and his arms relaxed as he looked around the sanctuary. Rows of long pews covered the wooden floor. Their dark frames each holding a velvet red cushion. Light streamed in through the tall stained-glass windows lining the east wall casting shadows of various hues. A cross delicately draped with blue and purple satin hung proudly in the high arch behind the pulpit. A strange peace filled this simple old church.

Kane returned to his chair near Troy, the weight of this encounter settled in his heart. God, help us.

“Tell me more about Sam,” Kane wanted to know everything about what they were up against. The shake overtaking Troy’s body meant Sam wasn’t far away, and that he won’t let go easily.

Troy had never told anyone about Sam. But he felt that he could tell Kane anything, and deep down, he wanted to tell him everything. “It all started with the wreck. I was pretty banged up- broke my jaw, collarbone, and arm. I had a concussion. But none of that compared to the pain of knowing Sarah was dead. They wouldn’t let me see her or tell me where she was. I demanded to be discharged. They sent me home with painkillers and pages of self-care instructions. All I wanted was a drink. A bottle of Jack and a handful of pills later, Sam appeared on my couch. He said he was there to take care of me. The first few weeks, he kept a drink in my hand. When we ran out of pills, he helped me re-break my collarbone to get more. When the doctors stopped writing the prescriptions, Sam became progressively abusive and degrading. But without him, I couldn’t get what I needed. He had all the connections.” Troy stopped. He was too embarrassed to talk about what those connections demanded. Saying it all out loud, he couldn’t believe the things he had done for a fix. He cleared his throat and pulled himself back onto the pew. “ We have been bonded together for what feels like a lifetime.”

Kane knew that look and the swell of emotion that comes with exposing who you are and where you’ve been. His first few AA meetings in this very building, he was a blubbering mess. “How do you feel about getting a breath of fresh air?”

Troy’s pulse spiked. “No. No, it’s safe in here.” He rubbed his hands together then over his legs, rocking back and forth. “What if he’s out there? I can’t. I just can’t.”

“I’ll be with you,” Kane reached forward and squeezed his arm. “Come on. It’s gonna be ok.” Kane stood and walked to the double doors. A gust of wind swirled the newly fallen leaves in the entryway as he propped the heavy doors open. Light shone all around him as he stepped onto the stairs. Troy watched from the main aisle. His heart pounded in his ears and his tongue felt foreign in his dry mouth.

“Are you coming?” Kane gestured for Troy to join him outside.

Troy’s feet were heavy. No part of him wanted to leave the protection of this place.

“It’s a beautiful day. Just you and me here, brother. What do you say?”

Troy reluctantly shifted his feet forward. The warm breeze felt good against his skin as he reached the threshold. Kane stood, hands on hips, admiring the clear sky. Troy drew a deep breath and brought his feet to the top step.

A shriek sliced the space between them as Sam jumped from his rooftop perch, snatching Kane from his spot and throwing him into the dirt.

Kane quickly rolled and jumped back to his feet. “You must be Sam.” The demon was surprisingly dapper. Long dark hair cascaded around his perfectly chiseled jawline and cheekbones. His muscular build was better fitted to a male model than something that had crawled out of hell. Kane shrugged, “You’re smaller than I imagined.”

Sam hissed at Kane. He proudly flipped his lengthy locks as they fused together into onyx quills that hung sharply down his back. His flawless skin dulled and became ashy. The bones of his frame pushed sharply against his flesh, begging to tear free. His arms grew long, much too long. His fingers and toes spread with ghastly splinters emerging between each.

Troy had never seen Sam in this form. He was terrified, rooted where he had fallen on the steps. He watched in horror as Sam and Kane circled one another preparing for a fight. “Kane, run! He’s going to kill you!” Troy cried. “Kane!”

Both man and demon ignored Troy’s desperate attempt urging Kane to flee. Sam gnashed his teeth at Kane while he paced around him. His long talons clicked against the ground in a metallic twang that sent chills through the air.

Sam’s maniacal laugh echoed across the field. “Doesn’t it bother you that you destroyed so many families? All the lives you’ve taken, the people you watched die. Can you still hear them begging for mercy?” Sam strutted a few feet closer to Kane cocking his head to the side. “How long has it been since you’ve had a taste? I could offer you more than you ever dreamed of. Just give me Troy.”

Kane thought carefully about what Sam said, and he stood tall. “Does it bother me? It wrecks me to know that I am loved despite who I am and the things I’ve done.” His words carried an authority Sam wasn’t accustomed to.

Kane had to focus. It had been many years since he fought a demon, but he still remembered their tricks. Fix your mind. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes as lyrics poured from his heart and through his lips.

I’m not strong enough

You see who I am, who I’ve been

And You love me anyway

I need You now

I need You now

His deep voice sung out in peaceful melody despite the hell raging before him. He had lived and died in the words he sang, and their power was great. Kane opened his eyes and stood taller. His neck cracked as he rolled his shoulder back warming his muscles for the fight. Whether Troy could see it or not, Kane was surrounded by something much bigger than Sam, and it fed a boldness and strength through his body that could not be broken.

Anger filled Sam, and his eyes bulged. Salvia broke free from his open mouth and flew into the air with his ear-shattering wail. As he charged towards Kane, his arms and legs flew forward, and he was slammed back by some unseen force. His fury swelled. He clawed, bit, and kicked every move he had with all of his strength, but Kane stood unaffected. Sam staggered back looking at his hands. Cracks ran along his knuckles from impact, though he never made contact. Pools of blood formed below the surface of his skin leaving bruises along his arms and shins. Kane stood firm and continued his song. He spoke of being loved and found in his brokenness. How even now, he’s not able to fight this on his own.

Troy felt every word Kane sang resonate in his heart. Each line, more beautiful than the last. There was no pride, no excuse, just raw truth. All of his ugly mistakes sang out. A strange light filled the space around Kane as his song grew louder and louder. Despite the fear threatening to swallow him, Troy felt something new coursing through him with each beat in his chest. He felt hope.

Sam examined the strange light that formed around Kane unable to look away and grabbed his head, confused. He had never been injured by a mortal. He stood back staring at Kane. “Who are you?” He asked a mixture of curiosity and fear cast a shadow in his eyes. “You’re no mere man; we both know that. Give me back my person and I’ll leave.”

“We both know that can’t happen,” Kane wiped his brow. Sam lunged once again for the takedown. Dust lifted around them as Kane side-stepped behind him, hooking his left arm through Sam’s and right arm tight around his neck in one quick motion.

“Troy! How could you let him do this to me? To us?” Sam was angry. He clawed at Kane, but the man’s grip never eased. Kane’s stance was wide and low, pulling Sam back into a tight headlock he couldn’t escape.

“I told you I executed my demon, but I didn’t get to tell you how,” Kane spoke in tight words as he held the demon close.

“How?” Troy’s eyes widened and his heart lept.

Kane peered at him with eyes that had walked through hell. “You have to forgive yourself. It’s as easy and as hard as that. Forgive yourself. Take away his power, his purpose!”

Troy stumbled back. The crash, Sarah’s blood-filled eyes, the alcohol, the drugs, every decision he had made up until this point slammed into him in one big flood. He fell to his seat and scrambled back. Sorrow overtook him, and he rocked back and forth weeping.

Sam grew taller in Troy’s despair, and Kane’s hands began to separate.

“Troy! Troy, listen to me. That night was an accident. There’s nothing you could have done. But now, right now you have a choice to make. Remember Sarah’s love for you. Remember her smile and laughter. She wouldn’t want to see you hurt yourself. Your love was strong. It was an accident. Troy, you have to forgive yourself.”

Sam laughed. “Love? Him? Who could ever love such a disgusting, pathetic excuse of a man?” Sam twisted hard and broke Kane’s hold, flipping him over his shoulder to the ground. “Do you think she ever really loved you?” He asked, stepping over Kane towards Troy, the taste of sweet victory at hand.

Kane pushed himself up to all fours. “Troy, I knew Sarah. She came here; I was her pastor. I recognized you as soon as you spoke her name. Your hair is longer now and you have a beard, but I knew it was you from the pictures she showed me. She loved you deeply.”

Troy’s face twisted and he lowered his head into his hands. He sat for a moment, then unzipped his pouch and removed a needle.

“Yes!” Sam shouted. “It can go back to the way it should be. Just you and me. Go on-” Sam’s eyes darkened and his voice became a growl “-put it in.”

Troy shook at Sam’s words. He looked at the needle in his hand, the marks on his arms, and he felt empty. This isn’t the way it should be. “I can’t do this anymore.”

“Then I’ll do it for you!” Sam lunged towards Troy, grabbing the needle and jerked his arm tight.

Troy looked to Kane, who sat, eyes closed singing his song once again. He slowly inhaled and closed his eyes as he joined Kane in the chorus.

I’m not strong enough

You see who I am, who I’ve been

And You love me anyway

I need You now

I need You now

Warmth spread from this head down through his chest, shooting out his arms and into his legs. The fear that crippled him transformed into a vibration coursing through his bones. His entire body felt electrified and rejuvenated. He peered through a barely opened eye, curious what was happening around him. Sam still held his arm, needle pressed against unbroken skin.

“Come on!” Sam yelled in frustration. The needle bent as he tried coaxing it into Troy’s plump vein, unable to pierce through the skin. “Come on!” He brought it over his head and slammed it hard against Troy’s arm, desperate to deliver its contents. A faint snap compelled their eyes to meet as the barrel of the syringe cracked and emptied to the ground below. Sam snarled; a deep growl rumbled in his throat. Troy instinctively fell back, bringing his arms over his face, waiting on the impact of Sam's anger.

Sam crawled over top of Troy’s body. Saliva dripped off the fangs extending from his open mouth. The flesh in his lips tore open under the pressure of his unhinged jaw.

“You can’t quit me,” Sam leaned forward and licked Troy’s face. “I own you.”

Troy reached into his pouch and slid the cap off of his last needle. “Not anymore,” Troy said, looking right into the eyes of his demon. For the first time, he wasn’t afraid. He shoved the needle deep into Sam’s side, penetrating the space between his ribs.

Sam shot up, frantically scooting away from Troy. He clawed at his cracking flesh as it began to flake off. Smoke rose from his melting bones, and he rolled to the ground. He cried, his volume growing into a deafening siren. Light broke from him, exploding across the expanse. Troy turned on his side and buried his face to escape it.

Peace surrounded them as a gentle breeze danced through the leaves. Birds sang in serene melody, acknowledging the tranquility of the moment. Troy rolled to his back and took a deep breath.

“Heck of a day, huh, brother?” Kane laid on the ground next to him, extending his knuckles towards Troy.

Troy smiled. He couldn’t remember how long it had been since he felt so light and free. He brought his arm up lightly bumping the back of his knuckles to Kane’s. “So, now what?”

“Now, you know how to fight your demon,” Kane said. “You did something today that most people don’t have the strength to do. You’re gonna need every bit of that strength in the days ahead.” Kane sat up and with his intense eyes, he searched Troy’s face. “The next few days will be harder than you can imagine. Sam will try to fight his way back to you. He’ll make you think you’re gonna die without him, and that there’s nothing you can do on your own. The taste will be strong and threaten to drive you into insanity.”

Troy knew Kane spoke from experience, and he hung onto every word. “But, I defeated him,” he said, sitting up to match Kane’s gaze.

“You did. And you will need to do it again and again. It will get easier with time. Every day when you wake up, remember who you are. Remember what you did here today!”

Troy sat as uncertainty crept over him. “What if I can’t do it again? What if I’m not strong enough on my own?”

“You were never meant to do this alone,” Kane smiled and grabbed Troy’s shoulder. “None of us were. We can fight this together. And in time, you will help others do the same..”

Kane laid back and closed his eyes enjoying the cool breeze that swirled around them. Troy watched him. Gratitude filled his soul as he studied the face of this kind man. His hero. The person that saw him. The one that embraced him. The one that gave him the strength for a new beginning. He stretched out beside him and took a deep breath.

There they laid. Two souls broken by addiction, restored by forgiveness.


About the Creator

Jayres Green

Tucked deep in the extraordinary Tennessee mountains, my passion is creating stories for people based on their experiences, highlighting their strengths, challenging perspectives, and creating one beautiful moment.

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