When I was 16, I attended a Christian summer camp that ruined my view of Christianity for the rest of my life.
I had always been surrounded by church. It had become a life-line for me when I was in an abusive household most of my childhood. I remember my grams bringing me to church every Sunday, performing in the Christmas plays, and attending a girls program every Thursday night. It became my most simple routine, as I knew my grams would support my belief in God and make sure I was present in the church. I went to vacation bible school almost every summer and when I was old enough I would volunteer in these programs. I prayed to God every night.
All the while I was going home and kissing my girl friends, but that’s besides the point.
Anyways, I was excited. But not super excited. It was summer time again and this would be my third trip to the High School Christian Summer Camp. My faith was already weaning and my favorite cousin who attended all these trips with me was officially too old to attend. I was alone and didn’t really have that many close friends in the youth group. Yes, I knew them since I was a baby, but I was not close with them. I mostly stuck to myself or with my cousin. Despite being a volunteer and active member of this church, I was quite shy.
So when we all filed into this fancy big bus to head to the camp, I was quite nervous. Was I really going to talk to absolutely no one on this trip?
Luckily, my youth pastor Josh was very nice. I had known him for a few years, since he came to the church when I was 14, and he was at least 21. He had a kind of charm to him that if he was talking to you, you would want to keep listening. He was very popular with all the younger girls in the youth group. I would hear whispers of his attractiveness and rumors being spread about this mystery girl he may or may not be seeing. But Josh didn’t seem to know- or care- that these girls were talking about him.
Josh talked to me the entire bus ride, which eased my nerves quite a lot. If I was going on this trip, at least my youth pastor wanted me to be involved. We talked about so many different things: Movies that we were interested in, books that we liked (no surprise to what his favorite was), music that we enjoyed. We played our favorite songs and I felt like I was making a new friend, more so a mentor. It wasn’t until we reached the college campus we were staying on that he turned his attention elsewhere.
Most of the week went by swimmingly. I didn’t have as much fun, but that was okay. I was talking to Josh a lot and he would even have lunch with me everyday. He even gave me his phone number to contact him if anything were to arise. I thought of it as sweet and kind. My youth pastor actually cared about me. It wasn’t until the fourth day that everything really went off the rails.
A typical day of this week-long summer camp went as follows: Wake up, eat breakfast, go into this grand room to worship and have a sermon, break off into activities, downtime, dinner, and then worship again in that same grand room. My downtime was filled with nothingness, except me reading lots and lots of books. Josh was busy planning things for the rest of the week with other youth pastors so I really couldn’t talk to him as much during that time period. This sucked but also gave me time to myself, which I desperately needed despite my lack of want for it.
It was during the fourth day of the camp, during my downtime, that I had decided to take a walk around campus. Now we were in Tennessee, and it was summer time. It was hot. The second you stepped outside it felt as if you were being suffocated with warm pillows. But I didn’t want to read, so therefore I put on my shorts and short sleeved shirt and walked. It was complete torture.
I finally felt like I was going to vomit when I decided that I needed to go inside a building with some sort of air conditioning. So I entered the grand room where we all gathered at the beginning and end of the day. It was completely empty, with a cross on stage front and center. The rows and rows of seats were all decorated with ribbons and pamphlets. The lights were dimmed and a soundtrack played quietly in the background.
Well, I thought it was empty, until someone placed their hand on my shoulder.
I whipped around, immediately beginning to apologize when I was hushed by a man much larger than me. He had brown, beady eyes and no hair on his head. He looked maybe 50-60 years old and he was dressed in a nice suit. I began to assume he was one of the leaders of this camp and he was just setting up when I had interrupted. I tried again to apologize saying that I needed to just get out of the heat and that I knew we weren’t to be in the grand room until 7pm, but then he spoke.
“What’s a girl like you doing alone right now? Shouldn’t you be with your pastor?” He said, with a shit-eating grin.
I looked around and realized we were utterly alone. Just the two of us.
I froze and knew immediately what his intentions were. You know how you just know? Something was going to happen, I could feel it in the pit of my stomach. I attempted to back away but his grip on my shoulder was too strong, and he wasn’t letting go.
“Please don’t,” I said, all too aware of the tears building in my eyes, threatening to fall. He hushed me and put a finger to my lips.
“Hush now, sweet girl. Don’t make too much noise.” He said, using his other hand to take a strand of my hair and twirl it.
I decided then and there to kick him where the sun doesn’t shine. And I immediately started running.
But I didn’t get very far. I was immediately tackled. I guess my kick wasn’t powerful enough, I mean I had never kicked anyone in the balls before so this was definitely a first. I started trying to wiggle my way out of his grasp but he was holding me down too tight. I could feel the old carpet against my face, making my face itch everywhere. I could feel his hot breath against my cheek and I could smell it too. It smelled rancid. Like alcohol.
“You’re coming with me little girl, and then I’ll THINK about letting you go after I am done with you. After the stunt you pulled, I’d say your chances are-”
Suddenly, I felt all the weight leave from my body. I felt the ground below me and my back become lighter.
Then I heard screams.
I turned around to see Josh holding the man with beady eyes up in the air. I looked closer-no. He wasn’t holding him. He was levitating.
I put my hand over my mouth. I was so scared and relieved at the same time.
That’s when I saw Josh move his hand a certain way, towards the stage. And the man’s body followed, all the while he was screaming to be let go. Josh walked up to the stage and moved his hand downward, causing the man to crash to the floor right in front of the cross.
Josh looked back at me, his eyes pitch black and black nails protruding from his fingertips. I looked back at him, probably with shock written all over my face.
“You should probably go.” Josh said, blinking and turning back to the man in front of the cross.
I stayed.
Josh got closer to the man, and knelt down to observe him. From where I was, I couldn’t see if Josh was talking, but the man looked absolutely terrified and kept vigorously shaking his head. Josh’s shoulders compressed and he finally stood up, grasping onto the man’s wrist and pulling him up with him. Josh then took the man’s hand and placed it up against the cross.
He took a nail out of his pocket.
The man seemed to know exactly what was going to happen next, as he began pleading for his life. Tears were spewing out of his eyes and his face had gone deep red.
But Josh had just started.
He took his hand and began piercing the man’s hand with the nail against the cross. The man kept on screaming and screaming. I saw the blood trickle down and splatter against the stage in streams. I felt nausea rising up in my stomach.
Josh repeated until both hands and feet were nailed to the cross. The man’s crying had turned into soft whimpers as he neared unconscious, and maybe even death. Josh seemed pleased with his work, as he once again turned to me and gave me a soft smile. He then disappeared all together, I blinked and he was gone.
I left in a hurry, not trying to be seen with the body of a man hung up on a cross. I left that for someone else to find. And despite me being a good Samaritan, I decided I was not going to be the one to call the police, that man sure as hell wasn’t going to do me any favors. But eventually the police were called and we were all sent home. Everyone was on the lookout for Josh but we couldn’t find him anywhere. This saddened me. I wanted to thank him for everything despite what he was, but he was just gone.
I’ve never been able to go to church again. I stopped going to youth groups and participating. When things like this happen to you, it can affect you in multiple ways. For me, it was the downfall of my beliefs when it came to Christianity. Seeing Josh like that made me think that other things were plausible and good. Not what I was being spoon fed at church every week.
And if you’re wondering, I no longer pray to God now. I pray to Josh. I hope he can hear me wherever he is.