Free Broken Identity by Ashley Williams

your life.”
    Pastor Don stepped down from the stage again and got personal with the congregation. “Believers, we’re going to Heaven. We have life and a wonderful future to look forward to. But it’s not enough to come to church week after week so we can feel like we’ve fulfilled some sort of a religious duty. What was it Jesus commanded us to do right before He left the world to go back to Heaven?”
    “Go unto all the world and preach the gospel,” Andrew muttered under his breath.
    “He told us to go unto all the world and preach the gospel,” Pastor Don said. “Yes, we’re going to Heaven. Yes, Jesus saved us. But let’s make sure we take as many people with us as we can. It hurts me to know that even one soul is in hell today. It can be avoided, but it’s up to us.”
    He smiled in spite of his tears and said, “In conclusion, I’d like to remind you all of the verse in Hebrews 13:2 that says, ‘Do not forget to entertain strangers, for by doing so, some have unwittingly entertained angels.’ Live your lives as sacrifices to God and He will direct your paths. He’ll use you if you’re willing to be used by Him.”

    Once Drake’s headache progressed into a migraine, he decided it was time to turn off the ’80s station he had been listening to for the past three hours of driving and give his head a rest. He rolled up his window and tried to relax in the silence, but his throbbing head made every effort impossible. His unyielding craving for nicotine was probably also a major contributor to his headache—especially because he usually took a smoke when he felt stressed.
    He popped open his glove box and scanned the inside just one more time, in case he might have overlooked it. Surely he had just one cigarette left in there somewhere. He slammed it shut and shoved a piece of gum in his mouth. Cinnamon wasn’t the flavor he was looking for.
    Several times, he had been tempted to turn into a gas station and buy a pack of cigarettes, but he had to keep reminding himself that he’d be thankful he saved his money later. Boloney , he thought. The only thing I care about right now is a cigarette and a lighter. He pressed his left foot hard against the floor and chewed faster.
    He spotted a gas station in the distance and felt his stomach churn. One couldn’t hurt, could it? What’s a few bucks outta fifty, anyway? In time, those few bucks would hold a greater value when he was searching the trash cans for food. But I need this.
    Drake put his trembling hand on his seat and gripped a fistful of the padding, fighting the gut-wrenching urge to give in to his addiction. With only a second more to decide, he passed up the exit leading to the gas station and stared blankly ahead at the long strip of highway that lay before him. I can do this. I can do this. It feels like I’m dying, but I can do this. Withdrawal. Wonderful way to top off his day.
    Drake felt stupid wasting gas like this. Driving in no definite direction was probably a mistake that would later come back to haunt him. He just wanted to get away. He had to get safe somehow; prison wasn’t an option as far as he was concerned. His past was covered in dirt like everyone else’s, and he sure hadn’t been a saint, but he had always hoped he would never cross paths with the law. Some thugs he knew blew off prison as if it were nothing more than a visit to the doctor. For some reason, it had always been a bigger deal to him. If for no one else, he had to live for himself. Speeding tickets were one thing. Electric chairs were quite another.
    But maybe I’m doing myself more harm by running away. If I go back and confess, they might go easy on me and cut my sentence short. Drake squinted in the glare of the setting sun and bit the inside of his cheek. Nah. I’m not gonna go back and beg for their mercy. I stand on my own two feet. I don’t crawl. ’Sides, who knows if they’ll even be able to pin the murder on me? How do they know that someone