I sought the LORD, and he answered me; he delivered me from all my fears.

-Psalm 34:4

I spent the next 24 hours in Niobrara Community Hospital, in the care of small town doctors.

Most of what happened over the course of that day was a blur. I remember seeing my family’s concerned faces staring at me as the nurses rushed me away on a gurney. I remember the doctors checking me all over for injuries, and applying ice to the bumps on my head.

I also remember the last time I saw Candice as she was hurried away to a different room in the ER. At that moment, watching her disappear around the corner, it hit me. When faced with a life of never-ending suffering, I, like Candice, had chosen death. Worse, I had chosen it for someone else. The gnashers were right, Sheila died because of me. And rescue arrived just minutes later.

I wanted to stay in Lusk a little longer. I wanted to speak to the fire fighters and see how many bodies they found in the fire. That might have put some fears to rest. Then there was Candice. If I’d had my way I would have stayed another year at least to see how she’d do. Would she look at her life now, free of the gnashers, as a blessing? Or would this just make her problems worse? I’d never know, and always have to worry about the traumatized girl who disappeared around the corner.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

Because two hours before the hospital released me, the wind died down, and the dust’s wrath was quelled once more. My father and mother were desperate to get me out of Lusk. I had to beg them to continue north, to the Woodhouse family reunion, where I could take some solace in the comfort of family. We’d return home on a different route in two weeks’ time.

The last thing I recall of Lusk Wyoming is sitting in the seat furthest back in the minivan, still in my hospital clothes, staring out the back window as the last, gray building disappeared over the horizon.

At my request, my family and I never really talked about what happened in Lusk. I told them it was too painful to discuss. I’m still not sure whether or not that was a lie.

Now, everywhere I go, I see the flash of a fanged smile. Gnashers are everywhere. They feed on the blood of the innocent. They devour the downtrodden from the face of the earth. They thrive on spreading terror wherever they go. They are the gangsters hiding in alleyways, and they are the teachers at our schools. They are the mailmen who travel our neighborhoods, and they are the rich and powerful people who seem a world away from us.

The janitor.

The veteran.

The sinner.

The man in the Jesus shirt.

The son of darkness.

The granny.

The cowboy.

“Be sober-minded; be watchful. Your adversary the devil prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour.”

-1 Peter 5:8