Darren had found refuge in his Fathers arms, outstretched and waiting for the wayward child to come home. Home to Him. This cell was not a home that Darren, aka Fester, had envisioned as a place to live out his life. Maybe, for his father, but never for him. The choice was initiated when he crossed that line between obeying the law and defying it. Prison now was not his temporary home, but the place he would eat, sleep, and work for the rest of his life. But in reality, Darren Moore had already lived his life in prison, barred in by his actions long before setting foot in this institution. The prison he lived in for most of his life was the one he constructed himself. Picking up the journal Gabe had left behind, he flipped hastily through the pages. Though he tried to talk to God, it was difficult never having done so before. Darren had uttered His name only in curses. This way of living was strange to him, and Nathan had explained that it would be. There would be days hed feel like a failure; and in such times, God would be there waiting patiently. Father God, please help me. As soon as he cried his utterance, a whisper sounded. Looking about his cell, he saw no one. Was God really listening? Darren had heard whispers similar to these at the trial. With tear-filled eyes, he glanced down and began to read. To Fester Moore
