fiction, stories, writing

A Brother’s Lament: The Last Supper

Disclaimer

This story along with the others in this small series of stories is purely fiction. It is not meant to go against anyone’s belief in the Gospel. This is my own personal belief in the form of fiction and the “supernatural” parts are more -so true to life than they are in the Bible. It is another telling of what happened in the view of the so-called “villain.” My personal belief is inspired by the lost gospels of Judas, Barnabas, Mary Madeleine, and the belief that Jesus was a prophet and not the son of the Hebrew/Christian God.

The Story

I felt ill. Sick to my stomach. Why did my brother insist that we go through this farce of a supper? He was the one who asked me to fulfill this ill-fated prophecy instead of running out of Jerusalem like I had suggested. He insisted that my betrayal would be the only way he would not be killed on the spot. What if taking the silver pieces is what brings the horrific fate that I saw? I did remember the fisherman claiming I was a betrayer. That, in itself, is what makes me think that the future I saw coming true is what is truly to come? What was the point in seeing the future when you cannot change it? 

I was quiet while the rest of the Apostles drank their fill of wine. My brother loved the trick he used at the wedding three years ago so much that he used it more than once. It was a simple transformation spell, but it saved our group so much money on wine. He was always the one who was gifted with the natural magic of this world. I was only gifted in prophesying the future. 

“Judas, what is wrong?” James asked. He had always been the youngest of the group and the younger brother of Yeshua and myself. We never told any of the others that any of us were true or even half siblings because we wanted us to be more evened out. 

“Nothing, enjoy the meal,” I said with a sad smile. I made a pact to protect both of my little brothers. John was no different. He did not even know about the horrible visions that plagued my dreams.

“How can I enjoy it when I can tell something is wrong with both of my elder brothers?” he asked in a more hushed tone. The boy was always gifted with knowing what others were feeling. 

I just gave him a smile while Yesh gathered everyone together. So, this is how you spark everything Yesh? Yeshua went in explaining a strange analogy about the wine representing his blood and the bread representing his body. As always, my brother was all for the theatrics. He glanced at me with sad eyes. “…and now, the one who dips his bread after mine will betray me.”

I felt as if I was going to empty the little food I ingested. Did he have to bring about that I would “betray” him? Was this his way of making sure the prophecy happened the way that I saw? He dipped his bread into my favorite dip to make things even worse for me. I sighed following suit. 

The room gasped and I felt Peter grab me from behind and slam me against the wall.

“How dare you?” He glared, he looked like he was about to swing his strong arm into my gut before my brother stopped him.

“He is not the only one guilty before the night is done. You will deny that you know me three times before the rooster rows. Do not make this last night that we have together filled with violence. Let him go, Peter.” The entire room shivered at how calm my brother could sound even faced with danger. I knelt down with shaking hands and held my brother’s. 

“Please Yeshy… do not make me do this…” I pleaded. I could feel tears wanting to poke its way out of my eyes. I just wanted to take him and run.

“Go,” he said softly with his eyes not meeting my own. “Please do what needs to be done.”

A few hours passed and I did what was needed to get done. The soldiers in tow, we made our way into the garden of Gethsemane. I told them that the man I would kiss on the cheek was the man they wanted. The idiots put in charge of my brother had fallen asleep. John, Peter, and even my baby brother James was resting while my brother sat there calmly with his eyes closed. I frowned and hugged him. “Please do not make me do this brother,” I whispered. When I heard him say nothing I knew I had to act. Otherwise, the soldiers would attack us all. I kissed his cheek softly. 

“Judas,” he asked calmly, fighting back tears I knew were coming. “Must… you betray me with a kiss?”

I held onto him in tears before the guards forced me off of him. While all this was happening, I could see Peter wake up and in a rage grabbed a sword from one of the guard’s ear off before trying to approach me with the blade. 

“Put the sword down Peter,” Yeshua said sternly. He raised his hand to heal the ear before they took him away. Before Peter could rage at me when he was gone, I ran after them. Now that his task was done it was time for me to find a way to save him. I would not let my little brother I had sworn to protect die like this.