And so it seemed that my very sins had finally caught up with me.
There was no more hiding in the shadows of secrecy.
I was exposed by the followers of hypocrisy.
Caught in the web of adultery.

How could I run when the Pharisees surrounded me?
By my arms they dragged me into the streets.
First to be shamed publicly
And then to be done away with. No mercy.

My lover, stood back and watched as they placed our immorality solely on me.
As if I were the one who made a promise to another to remain faithful til death.
As if I were the one who vowed to stay during sickness and health.
But it didn't matter to them nor did it matter to him.
I was the easy target, the nameless fool
The one he used for his own gratification. I was simply his tool.

The law of Moses declared me guilty.
For stepping on the toes of a righteous God. Guilty.
For putting my will above the Holy One. Guilty.
For suppressing the conscience I could not run away from. Guilty.
And so the wages of my sin was death.
And death was all I deserved for my wretchedness.

In their attempts to trap him, my accusers led me to a man named Jesus.
The King of the Jews was who they claimed him to be.
"What shall we do with this adulteress?" they asked.
He bent before the crowd and with his fingers wrote in the sands.
Only straightening up to say, "Let he who is without sin cast the first stone."
Then I realized that I wasn't alone.
For even those who wished me dead deserved death themselves.

For we are all sinners, drowning in the very depth of our sins.
But all it takes is one man, one experience, one encounter to break the chains of iniquity
Today I stand with a name.
Today I stand with a hope.
In the one who isn't only the way but the door.
And the one who freed me and told me to sin no more.

-Chantol Aspinall
(2016)

Stalked
By: Heidi Angell


I smile as we dance, but my eyes are always scanning.
My drink never leaves my hand, afraid of what another is planning.
 
“Relax,” my friends say. “Loosen up!”
Secretly they think I am no fun, this delicate little buttercup.
 
The party is still jumpin’ but it is time for me to go.
“Stay, just one more song,” they plead, but cannot make it so.
 
I cling to the key in my hand, held forth like a dagger,
I bolt to the car afraid I might stagger.
 
In the car, doors lock immediately.
I take a deep breath and relax ever so slightly.
 
On the road, my vigilance increases, watching each car expecting my enemy.
I dare not let up, not for a moment, lest that be the end of me.
 
Home. Everyone else finds it a refuge.
For me it is a multitudinous trap, waiting to deluge.
 
Every light on, every window and door checked, and checked again.
I begin to relax, climb into bed, lights out, safety in dreams but then…
 
A sound or something sets me off, running through the shadows of my nightmare
There is no rest for me, he is everywhere.
 
Waking in a cold sweat, checking every access point, certain he is here.
Even when he is gone, I still can’t escape the fear.
 
 
Based on Hell School.