The room was musty, the scent of anxiety hanging thick in the air. The worn wooden table bore remnants of a meal no one had the heart to finish. Tensions ran high among the disciples, the reality of Jesus' death causing panic and regret to swell.
John rubbed his temples, trying to stave off a headache. "They've killed our teacher," he muttered, his voice quivering. "I bet they're searching the streets for us right now." James sat slumped, his head buried in his hands. "This was supposed to be a new beginning" he murmured, his voice muffled in despair. Andrew, his eyes red and puffy, looked around desperately. "We believed. We left everything behind. What do we do now?" Thomas, ever the realist, scoffed bitterly, "We gave up our lives for...what? A dream? Maybe it's time to face reality." Philip added, "Maybe we should lay low, disappear." As the room hummed with fear and uncertainty, Bartholomew, trying to find a silver lining, reasoned, "Perhaps we can go back to our old lives, and pretend this never happened." But before anyone could respond, the door banged open. Mary Magdalene, her hair disheveled, her face a mix of excitement and fear, blurted out, "The tomb! It... it's empty!" The room went silent. Everyone froze, staring at her in disbelief. Joanna, catching up to Mary and equally out of breath, confirmed, "We went to mourn him, to say our goodbyes, and he wasn't there!" Peter, with a mix of fear, anger, and raw emotion, stood up suddenly. "Who took him? Who stole the body?!" The room became a whirlwind of questions, fear, and mounting paranoia. The disciples, already on edge, now grappled with this new mystery. The uncertainty was almost worse than the grief.
Peter in disbelief ran to check the tomb for himself, running as fast as he could with John following not far behind, as they got to the tomb nothing, not even a stone held the door shut, dread and grief fell heavy on them as peter slowly entered the tomb and saw only the cloth that covered Jesus' body now neatly folded and placed on the end of where his feet were.
John caught up to Peter and busted into the tomb with a gasp and nothing more, the body vanished with only the cloth remaining.
"Did the Romans take him? They were the only ones guarding last night" John said in fear while heavy breathing from running, Peter grabbed the off-white cloth and gripped it as tight as he could and began to cry and said to John. "I never got to say that I was sorry" John was confused and replied saying, "What Peter?" Peter yelled out, "I denied him! I disowned him and he looked at me, like.. like I smacked him across the face" John hugs Peter and says, "Jesus was a forgiving man, he would've forgiven you if you asked" Peter's eyes red from crying pushed John back almost making him fall onto the rocks of the tomb, he walked away and went back to regroup with the rest of the disciples.
