episode of a groundhog

I come down the stairs from my playroom. I have been watching “The Chipmunk Adventure.” I walk to the kitchen to find mom. I want something to eat. She is not there. I go to the bathroom, she is not there either. Being naturally high strung, I already start to feel a nervous tension begin to tickle the back of my mind. My pace speeds up. I look through the living room, the family room, the dinning room, the library. Why are there so many rooms? Why is she hiding? I open the door and peak into the dark basement. I am too afraid to search down there. “Mom?” No answer from the depths. Panic is starting to build. I slam the door shut. I race to the stairs. Do I really want to go upstairs by myself? Deep breath. I begin to run up the stairs. “Mom!” I run to mom and dad’s bedroom. No mom. I run to my bedroom. No mom. I go to the bathroom with the toilet that makes loud scary sounds when it is flushed. No mom. I open the door to the attic. In a whimper: “mom. . .” Why are their so many scary places in our house? I tear off back down the stairs. Full-fledged terror has settled in. “MOM!!!” I fling open the door and stumble outside. I race around the house, my fat eight year old legs moving faster than they ever thought possible. “MOM!!!!! MOM!!!!” Why are there no neighbors? I make it all the way around the house to the back yard. ‘MOMMY!!!” No mom. I am sobbing. The rapture has happened. Jesus has come back and taken all the Christians back to Heaven. Mom and Dad will be gone. Grandma and Grandpa too. Gone! I am alone. “MOOOOOMMMMMMMYYYY!!!!!” I will have to face the tribulation here on Earth by myself. I missed it. I was not good enough. I was not really saved. I was left here. I run, tears blinding me, around the back yard. I search the chicken coop, the fence next to the scary house next door. I am gasping trying to breath. Snot and tears streaming down my face, into my mouth. “Mommy! Mommy! Mommy! Mommy! Mommy!” The screaming has morphed into a chant. How will I get through this? How will I ever get to Heaven now? Mommy left me. Jesus took her and Mommy left me. I make it back to our side porch. “Mommy.” Only quiet, hopeless sobs now as I crumble to the porch. The screen door opens. “Sweetie, what’s the matter?” I look up to into my mother’s beautiful face. She wraps her arms around me and I sob even harder. Safe for awhile longer. I have to make the rapture. I can’t be left behind.
--This scene will play itself over and over again multiple times and in multiple locations. Each time, the terror increasing. Every time, I knew that this would be the time that I actually miss the rapture and I would left to face all the torment and mutilations brought onto the sinners who did not make it to Heaven the first time.