The House that Hatred Built

There once was a boy and he dwelt in a house called “Anger”. This house was set off in the back of a suburb surrounded by many people but a vast array of trees blocked the nearby neighbors from seeing this house. He lived alone but his presence was always known in the local town. Everyone knew the boy and talked with him regularly but no one knew he lived in the house called “Anger” for he wore a mask. The mask was that of bright silver fashioned to the form of a smile. Everywhere the boy went he was greeted warmly but no one could ever see past the silver linings of his mask.

Now, just like any other mask it could be taken off but the boy refused. What rested beneath his facade was a sight too hideous to be seen. Behind the smile the boy was crumbling and his face was shattered. The boy almost knew for a fact that if he took the mask off people would reject him because of the missing pieces. You see, in that town many people relied on what they looked like on the outside. Every individual wore a mask of some sorts and not many people took them off. For this very fact the boy was ashamed of his broken face, and more importantly his broken heart.

You see living alone in the house called “Anger” had taken a toll on the boy’s poor soul. He desperately hoped for relevance. He assuredly wished for a reality where no one felt the need to hide his or her true selves. Soon enough his house “Anger” began to speak to him and “Anger” became the boy’s only friend.

Shortly thereafter “Anger” provided him a bed called “Misery”. The boy would lay in “Misery” in the house of “Anger” and would listen to the voices telling the boy that his life wasn’t worth it; that he would be better off dead. These voices scared the boy but he continued to remain because they were his only company. Little did he know that the house of “Anger” and his bed of “Misery” had turned their backs on the boy.

They had lied to him for such a long time. They offered a grand picture of something they could never give. They said that they would make him feel better but each day the boy found himself waning more and more. He was laying in “Misery” but walking the path towards “Death”. One night the boy was laying in “Misery” surrounded by the relentless onslaught of voices when he heard a loud knock on the door.

At first the boy was scared and shocked for no one had ever visited his door. He slowly began to peel out of “Misery” to answer the call but it would not let go. It begged the boy to stay and tried to remind him of the many wonderful things it could provide. The boy found no strength to overcome its grasp; he fell into his bed once again. A few moments had passed and there was another loud knock on the door and the boy tried to crawl out of the bed to answer it. He kicked his legs to the side but “Misery” once again tugged at his broken heartstrings.

“I must see who is at the door. Let me go!” The boy cried

“But what about everything we have together?” Misery asked.

“I won’t stay here any longer. I must go see who is at the door.”

The boy found an ounce of strength and tore from the bed of misery. He lunged for the door as the voices screamed, the house shook, and the bed cried. The closer to the door he got, the more the house began to crumble and shake. Fissures were opening in the foundation of “Anger” and the bed of “Misery” had crumbled.

As the boy approached the door the house of “Anger” reached up one more time and grabbed him by the ankles. It screamed, it wrenched, it violently held on but the boy reached the door and with his last bit of strength, opened it. What the boy saw next was a sight that no man could ever imagine in his deepest imaginations.

The boy saw a white light burst through the door and all of a sudden the voices stopped their screaming and the house crumbled around him. “Redemption” stood in what used to be “Anger’s” doorway. “Redemption” picked the boy up, dusted off his shoulders, and carried him away from the rubble. Most importantly “Redemption” removed the boy’s mask and left his face open for the world to see.

The boy hid and cowered in the crest of “Redemption’s” arm, afraid of what others would say of the missing pieces. “Redemption” simply chuckled and pulled the boy around to face Him. Looking at the broken face of the boy He said…

“I care not about what you look like, how many pieces are missing, or what others may think. What I love and care about most is that your broken pieces can always be fixed. It may not be easy and at times possibly quite painful but in the end you will be as I see you now…Whole.”

The boy began to sob violently for he had never known such love and beauty. So long he had been sheltered under “Anger” and rested in “Misery”. He had forgotten that such a thing as “Redemption” existed. The beautiful thing is that “Redemption”, no matter how ugly the boy was or is, is never too far to reach for. The boy looked up, eyes full of tears, and “Redemption” stared back at him. No words were said for the boy knew all he needed to know. He was whole… He was beautiful…He was free.

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