Where is god?

🛑 Adult content, language, drugs, abuse (multiple forms), please read with discretion. May be a trigger for some readers. Reader discretion advised. 

This story has massive amounts of adult content. So much out of my wheel house, here’s to something different.

Psalm 13: 1-2

1  How long, Lord? Will you forget me forever? How long will you hide your face from me? 2 How long must I wrestle with my thoughts and day after day have sorrow in my heart? How long will my enemy triumph over me? ESV

Where is god?

Second page of a Google search

Maggie loved to listen to podcasts. She was listening to one on a random afternoon. Two men were talking. She laughed, “he’s gonna change the world as you know it.” With her feet, she set the rocker in motion, nussin’ her little dog. “He’s gonna change your world.” This man had wild ideas. Is that how you change the world? Why I remember this, I’m not sure. But he said, “The best place to hide a body is on the second page of a Google search.” I chuckled to myself as I looked at the limp, filthy body in front of me. The second page of my Google search. Where is the second page of my search? I’ve already ruled out the car frame. Inside the house will be first. Under this trailer?

The kitchen table sat on top of a hole in the floor. After jerking out the knife and tossing it in the sink, I slid her body down the hole. Used one of her shirts to clean up the fresh blood as best I could. I made sure to get it off the wall. How do you get blood off the wall without water? Piss on it. The house already stank.

Under the floor; it was dark, a different kind of dark from the darkness outside, cool, and damp. Maybe I should have been sleeping under here all along?

Dad was still passed out on the table as I looked for something to dig a hole with. If I was lucky, he would stay that way. Nope. He moved, scratching his balls through his underwear. Maybe? Yes. Still out. 

It took a long time for me to find something to dig with. Finally, I found a broken 5 gallon bucket. It made digging slow. But it was better than doing it by hand. 

Dad was still out when I came up from the hole. Only this time, he had rolled off the table. Sorry I missed that. 

I was hot; covered in sweat and dirt as morning broke. It was best if I cleaned up my dishes and the knife. It was my luck that a bucket of rain water was outside in the drip of the house. 

Just as I finished; a couple of dads buddies pulled up, beer in hand. Loud men. Louder truck.