Susie Collins struggled through most of her adult life to raise her two boys, Josh and Jake, on her own. Things seem to be turning out great, until the day Josh begins acting strangely. This is the story of a family's struggle to survive the evil that has taken over their lives, and the things only family are willing to do for each other.

Susie remembered the day Jake left, the way a person remembers an old movie they had seen years ago. Jake had kissed her cheek and said that he loved her, a stray tear running down his face. Susie had tried to say goodbye, and that she loved him too, but each time she tried to speak, the noise in her head became all but unbearable. She would become so aware of it that nothing outside of her head was able to register.  She sent her baby away with a blank stare, and sometimes when the voices weren’t so loud, she wondered if he could ever forgive her. There were times, when the voices subsided so much, that she thought she might be normal again. Then, she’d begin to remember that night; the night that the detective and the chaplain had shown up at her door to tell her that Josh was dead.

Susie of course had not believed them, and demanded to see his body. They tried to dissuade her, but had finally given in, realizing it was going to be the only way to convince her. They asked if there were someone who could go with her, but she declined, not wanting to bother Jake, as he was out on a date, and she knew this would all turn out to be a horrible mistake. She rode to the morgue with the chaplain, trying to get him to see that this was all a mistake. He just sat with his eyes on the road in front of them, quietly acknowledging her with nods and shakes of his head.

When they arrived at the morgue, they had Susie stand in a room with a large glass window. She stood there, trying to prepare herself as they had said she should, for seeing something so terrible she couldn’t even imagine it. The whole time though, she knew that whatever she was going to see would not be her son’s lifeless body. She watched quietly as the curtains from the other side of the window were drawn open, and a morgue tech slowly uncovered the gurney in front of him. Susie gasped in horror at the tangled mound of flesh and bone before her, appalled yet again that they were trying to convince her that this was her son.  She suddenly began screaming at them that this was not her son. Her son was a beautiful, healthy 20-year-old man with jet black, curly hair that spent more time in his eyes than brushed off his forehead where he tried to keep it. He had beautiful green-grey eyes like his father. The man that although Susie hated, she wished was here right now to tell these people they were wrong. That thing on the table was not her son. Her son had been tall and handsome. He had played football in high school and gone to all of his proms with the prettiest girl in school. He had been a talented graphics artist at one time, and although he’d had a few problems over the past year or so, Susie had known they were only temporary and Josh would end up back on top again. Things had not always been easy for her little family, but they had always gotten better. If that thing on the table was her beautiful boy, that would mean that nothing would ever be better again, and then what?

The men closed the curtain between Susie and the morgue, and gently eased her down onto a cold metal bench in the “viewing room.” The chaplain tried to console her by asking if there was someone he could call to come and be with her. She looked at him with her tear stained face and said,

“You don’t understand, I’m upset for whoever belongs to that person in there, but it is not my son!! That is not Josh and I don’t know why you would try to lead me to believe otherwise.”

The detective, looking like he had just taken a healthy drink of spoiled milk, handed her a manila envelope.

“Please take a look inside Mrs. Collins,” he told her sadly, “I think it will be what you need to see to believe us that this is your son. I am so very sorry for your loss.”

Susie stared at him for a moment, wondering why these people were being so cruel. Why would they want to convince a mother who loved her son beyond reason that he was dead? Slowly her gaze turned downward to the hand she held the envelope in. Ripping it open angrily, she allowed the contents of it to spill out on the floor beneath her. She sat there, in some form of shock, as she watched Josh’s things spin out across the floor. She saw the wallet she had bought for him last Christmas. She saw the picture of Jake he carried in his wallet, the one he used to say he showed to people when he needed a little sympathy, as they would always feel sorry for him when they saw he had a “retarded little brother.” She smiled a little at this memory. She always knew he carried it because he loved his brother, but as they had both told her a million times, bantering the way they did had only been “how we show our love.” His CA driver’s license had landed face up, his beautiful face staring up at her from the floor. She had a flash of memory of how happy he had been that day 4 years ago when the license had arrived in the mail. Finally, Susie’s eyes settled on the one thing that convinced her that she was suddenly caught in her worse nightmare, and was going to never be able to get out, Josh’s St. Christopher medal lay next to his license. She could read the words “St. Christopher Protect Me” on it. This made her angry, and she began to cry again, screaming and sobbing and hoping against hope that God would let her wake up from this nightmare.

“Why God? Why? What did he ever do to deserve this? He was a good man, a good son, a good brother, and a good person! What Kind and Just God could allow this to happen? Why?” She crumpled the envelope in her fist and threw it across the room, rocking back and forth, and railing against God like a mad woman....