Title: Missing Person Author: Coneflower Adams Rating: PG Summary: Charlie's struggle to not give into his drug is on the breaking point one night. Firelight and a song draws him nearer to salvation.
Disclaimer: I do own Lost or the lyrics of the songs used for this story.
Note: This story contains Christian content.
She didn't know about his addiction. He hoped she'd never know. She had fallen alseep early after a long day of Aaron crying constantly.He crept away from Claire's tent, fading into the darkness of the jungle. A backpack hung on his shoulder, carrying precious cargo. For most people,what he carried would repulse them, but he needed it. He halted in a spot far enough from the beach, but close enough to where he could find his way back. He dropped to his knees, tugging the backpack open as it slide off his shoulder.
The Virgin Mary stared back at him. He could only see the glow the moonlight shone on the statue, but he could feel his fingers twitching for the drug inside it. It had been the hardest thing to do to throw his bag in the fire, but when he watched it burn away to nothingness, the thousand pound weight on his chest lifted and he could breath again after so many years of sufficating. He cursed the drug in his hand. Deep inside, he wanted to lite the whole jungle on fireto make sure every ounce of it was gone for good. His fingers twitched andhe could feel thecraving crushing him. There was a tree next to him. He could easily break the statue and feed the craving. He closed his eyes, holding the statue out to swing.
But his hand stayed. Charlie's eyes flew open. Voices played in his ears. It was singing.
"As I travel through this pilgram land, there is a friend who walks with me. Leads me safely through the sinking sand. It is the Christ of Calvary. This will be my prayer, dear Lord, each day to help me do the best I can. For I need thee light, to guide me day and night. Blessed Jesus hold my hand."
He'd never heard the song before, but knew the message quite well. As a boy, he wanted to do right, but it seemed as he got older, so many things got in the way until he found himself a million miles from where he started. He felt the heaviness of the statue in his hand. His eyes switched down to it. So innocentthe statuelooked. He wanted to keep it that way.
The singing went on, and he couldn't take it any long.
Charlie stuffed the statue into his backpack, and trekked to the edge of the jungle. At a fire a short distance down the beach, he saw a circle of survivors.A fewwere holding hands, one was lifting their hands to the night sky, and some had their heads bowed. He'd seen the small gathering become larger as the weeks went on, but he never paid much mind to them.
Tonight, however, he wondered what they were doing.
Charlie made his way to the fire. One person was talking - no, praying. He watched until everyone raised their heads and dissembled. He spotted Rose still seated, and stepped up to her, touching her shoulder.
Rose jumped, and turned her head. A warm smile crossed her lips. "Well, hello, Charlie. I've been expecting you."
"What?" he said, confused.
"Sit down." Shepatted the space beside heron the bench made out of a halfed palm tree trunk.He took a seat beside her. "We've been at these fellowship meetings for a while now. I knew you'd make your way over here sooner or later."
"Oh." Charlie frowned, averting his eyes to the fire.
A long silent moment passed. "Why did you come over here?"
He shrugged. "I'm not sure. I heard singing and just felt drawn to it."
Rose nodded her head, and laid a gentle hand on his arm. "I've been praying for you. That you'll make the right choices, and that you'll be blessed."
"I wish I knew how to pray." Charlie felt his cheeks flush slightly. "I mean, I grew up going to church. We prayed there. Da and Mum made me pray at home, and the priest made me at school.As I got older, I stopped praying andforgot how to do it.When you prayed with me while Claire was gone, it felt as if a missing piece was put back in place."
"Maybe you felt Him."
Charlie knitted his eyebrows. "Who? God?"
Rose nodded. "Let me tell you a story, Charlie. I didn't grow upgoing tochurch. My father didn't believed, and though my mother did, she never showed me and my sister what it really means to know God. When I was twelve years old, a friend invited me to her church. She talked about how much fun Sunday School could be then all the kids would go out to the backyard and play to their hearts content. I went there for the fun, but never expected to be touched by the Holy Spirit. God touched my heart one Sunday. I didn't know the Bible much and didn't know how to talk to Him well either, but when I gave my life over to Christ, I knew something amazing had happened."
"That's a wonderful story, Rose," said Charlie. He rubbed his hands frustratedly on his dusty jeans. "But I still don't know what to do."
Rose grasped his hands. "Pray this with me, but only if you truly mean it."
"Okay." Hewasn't surewhat to expect when Rose began to pray. Something was tugging at him, but it wasn't the cravings this time. The tug was good, and it warmed his heart. He listened to Rose speak and found himself repeating what she said in his head. Though his version was slightly different, "Heavenly Father, I know I haven't been the best person, but please forgive me for all I've done. I believe You are real and believe that Jesus Christ died on the cross for me. Please take me back."
He didn't realize that tears were falling down his cheeks until he open his eyes. He touched his face, smearing the wet of the tears over his cheeks. He could tell something was different. His heart felt as if it would overflow with joy. Rose was looking at him, with tears of her own, and smiling.
"You'll be okay, Charlie." She squeezed his hand.
A smile of his own finallysplit his face. "Thank you, Rose." He hugged her thenslide the backpack in front of him. He pulled out the statue. "Sorry for being so harsh." With that, he broke the statue, making Rose jump. He collected the bags of heroin, and tossed them into the fire. He watched them burn to nothingness, and for the first time, he realized he didn't care if they were gone.
Rose had not known what was in those bags, but the heaviness that hung around Charlie's presencedisappeared. She patted him on theback. "I'm proud of you, Charlie. You willbe okay."
Helifted his eyes to met hers. They glistened with a new light. What was missing for Charlie wasn't missing anymore.