He noticed his Bible by the side of his bed, a gift to him from his mother on his 12th birthday.
It looks like just you and me, Lord. Speak to me he prayed.
Opening the Bible at random, he found the psalms and began to read. Three he read without inspiration before he stopped. Normally he could read from God’s word and hear His voice… God didn’t speak, leaving Brad totally alone.
He turned his goggles off, leaving him in the dark as he stared at his closed bedroom door. As a small boy, his mother would sit with him in the dark of his room. She ‘d stroke his head, and hold his hand as she spoke, reminding Brad that he was a Christian. Brad could recall the silhouette of his ponytailed mother in the gloom. Even now, he could feel the weight of her seated on the edge of his bed.
“You’ll never have a better friend than God,” she said softly, almost as a whisper. “He’ll always walk with you. When everyone else is gone; He’ll still be there with you. He’s your father.”
Brad furrowed his brows.
“Isn’t Dad my father?”
Even though he couldn’t see his mother’s face, he could sense her smiling.
“Your dad’s the little Daddy. God’s the big Daddy. The day’ll come when you’re grown up and have to leave here. When you do, just remember that God will always protect you, listen to you, tell you what to do. He’ll even love you better than I can. Always remember that.”
She kissed his forehead and rose from the bed.
Brad wanted the moment to last, if only for a few seconds more.
“What will I be when I’m grown up, Mum?”
His words had the desired effect. His mother stopped by the door, about to reach for the knob.
Her silhouette turned to face him.
“You’re going to be a great man of God.”
“Mum,” Brad called frantically.
He stared at the closed door of the present. His mother was gone.
They’re all gone.
“So what do I do now?” he prayed.
“What do I do now?”
He waited. Only silence answered him.
“Alright… I understand. Mum got it wrong, but You promised that you’d always be with me. Well I’m here. I’m waiting. Just tell me what to do and I’ll do it.”
Brad knew God existed everywhere at once. To know He sat quietly in the same room without answering almost amounted to a cruel joke.
He began to sob. “Oh Lord, please talk to me. Man destroyed the world, but you left me alive. Why?”
“Talk to me,” he cried into his pillow.
When God refused to answer, he raised his head.
“Talk to me!” he shrieked, no longer fearing the dangers outside.
His will broken; he dropped face down and wept. Like it or not, God had thrust him into the midst of a dangerous world, without knowledge of how to survive.
Eventually his sobs abated as the silence of his room rang in his ears. That too faded over time as he felt his eyelids growing heavy. Whether a dream or not he couldn’t tell, but he sensed a compassionate hand on his back.
A voice whispered close to his ear.
“I am with you, Brad.”