Eric Church What I Almost Was Novels & Stories

I kept glancing at my hands and buried them deeper in my lap. “…Eric Stanley” My head snapped up in shock, pulling me away from my thoughts. The minister was calling for him. Eric stood up, smoothing his suit jacket, and walked to the front. How had I forgotten that I also had to listen to him speak? He stood behind the podium and if I didn’t know better I would have thought he was truly miserable. His eyes scanned the chapel before settling on me for a second. “I want to thank everyone for coming today,” he said, looking away, staring briefly at the podium. “Thank you for coming to join us to celebrate the life of Joseph who was not just my father in law but also my mentor.”

"Oh, it's you. Set up the camera on the desk, adjust the angle, and get back to work." She gave a slight nod and walked in. "Welcome back, Scarlett." The sun was shining outside the window. The ER's ambulance rushed out, speeding off to pick up another patient.

“So, how are you?” “I’m fine, sir.” “And your family?” “They’re fine. They're outside.” “Alright. So, what is it?” He leans forward, his fingers interlaced on the table. “Sir. I...” Words fail me. Why did I think he'll want to listen? What if he judges me, tells my parents or even the whole congregation? Eric comes to this same church (not as frequently as I do), so I fear the Head-pastor will figure who I'm talking about by the time I'm finished and everything will be over for me.

It pressed on, barging into the sanctuary and smashing the pews under its treads. People were running around like chickens with their heads cut off. They were screaming and crying as they trampled one another. The smarter ones headed for the emergency exits, and when the doors opened, they set off alarms. When the dumber ones heard the sirens, they saw what the smarter ones were up to, and they followed them, and it was not long before the church was mostly empty. The tank did not stop until it was inches away from Crystal. The priest was holding his Bible in his hand and screaming as he ran towards the door. Eric stopped the priest with a word, and as he turned his head, all the color drain

Eric tells me with a serious expression on his face I don't think I've ever seen him this serious before. "Ok, then why don't we go to the living room and take a seat we can talk there." We all walk down to the living room Eric and the lady he's with sit on the couch and I take the sit opposite them. "Ok, so what's the problem Eric." "I don't know where to start from really but first of all this is my sister Katharina and my name isn't really Eric its Eriza, Eriza Ar'sanin and I'm a warlock."

He hadn’t lasted long in that house, but he’d held onto the drums for over fourteen years. “Did you say your dad was a minister?” Eric reached for his drumsticks. “You did not just ask me about my dad when I’m thinking about jumping your bones, did you?” He glanced over his shoulder sheepishly to find her scowling. “Sorry.” “Yes, he’s a minister.” Eric cringed. Rebekah lifted an eyebrow. “You better start looking sexy, or I’m going in the garage to start tearing an engine apart.” He shed his leather vest and peeled off his white T-shirt. “How’s that?”

Plus he unexpectedly has a F******k account. Is he still alive somewhere? I browse his F******k profile. His name is Eric Peter Marcus. He resides in the same town. And he works in a coffee shop. He also plays the piano, which makes me think he is talented. And that’s it. I think he is a private type of person. What I learned about him is he lives nearby and he is a barista. There’s not much in here. Except there are some photos of him with an older woman and a little girl.

“This looks like a formal gathering.” “It is,” Erica said happily. “I don’t attend formal gatherings.” “This one you do.” Ava leaned toward me. “This is definitely a setup.” I already knew that. And then I saw Eric. He was standing near the center talking with elders and visiting leaders. He looked calm and serious. Very different from the version of him I saw during chaos or family arguments. This version felt controlled and focused. And the moment he looked up and saw me, he stopped talking immediately. His attention locked on me completely.

Eric added then he closed the small jewelry box. Meanwhile, at the oldest church in F city, Bill brought Arabella who was struggling in his arms. “Put me down! Bill, what are you doing?” She angrily shouted wiggling her body to escape but Bill was strong enough to hold her body firmly into its position. They entered the church. The solemnity was there as there were no other people aside from them. Arabella felt embarrassed to shout in a very holy place. “Put me down, Bill.” She whispered. “Shhh…” He just muttered.