It's Been a Year

A year. One whole year!

It was exactly one year ago that I had just graduated from Indiana Wesleyan, said goodbye to all of my friends, and was on my way home for a new adventure in life. An adventure called waiting.

Now by the time I actually post this article, it will have been a bit more than a year, that being because I am posting my "short" story every week (Come on guys, it's only like 20,000 words).

But it has been a year, and a lot has happened in that year since I came home a depressed and heartbroken college graduate, thinking that my life was over. Let's review, shall we?

Short Story: Loved, Part 15 of 15 (AKA The end!)

This is it!!!!!!

The end.

I mean...um...well, you have to read it first. Then I can write "the end."

(Although if you need to read the beginning first, you can do so by clicking here.)

Hand trembling, Rebekah raised the mirror to her face and looked in. The painted man’s words filled her head, and the shriveled flower filled her eyes. But another voice whispered into her heart. The voice that wanted to be a flower on the hillside, dancing in the wind. The voice that said she was a flower, that she was precious. That she was wanted, just as she was. Rebekah concentrated on that voice for a moment. And the flower in the mirror grew. Its brilliant white petals spread their wings and flew out of the reflection and into her heart.

Short Story: Loved, Part 14 of 15

It's almost done! Just like winter's almost done!
Well...I mean, I'm writing this on Easter, and it SNOWED today. :( Lame.
But yeah, by now, it should probably be sunny.
And you only have one part left to read after this! Unless of course you missed the beginning and need to be redirected there. You can easily do so by clicking here.
 

At his words, Charlie’s self pity left him, and the urge to protect the fragile woman beside him replaced it. The lack of respect this man showed for the woman filled Charlie with a fiery rage. His lips curled at the beast.

            “She does not belong to anyone,” Charlie asserted through clenched teeth.

            The painted man looked amused. “Are you going to try to fight me for her?” he laughed. “Please, be my guest.”

Short Story: Loved, Part 13 of 15

And it continues.
(But it started here.)

            “And they all lived happily ever after,” Rebekah finished a tale for the children. “Until the next story.”

            “What do you mean, ‘until the next story?’” Lucas asked.

            “Oh,” said Rebekah softly. She hadn’t even realized she added that epilogue. “I suppose I mean that happily ever after doesn’t last very long. There’s always some other story to come along and steal away the happy ending.”

            “And some other ending to bring back the happiness!” Polly chirped.

            “Well…yes. I suppose so.” Rebekah smiled. After she and Polly had held each other and cried until their noses turned red and hurt to touch, the boys had grown impatient and demanded that they stop.

            “That’s enough feeling sorry for yourself, now,” Collin spoke importantly. “There are others of us as well.”

            “Why, Collin, you’re right!” Rebekah sat up.

            “For once,” Polly muttered.

            “No, no, he’s right! There are other people. I mean, well, obviously, but I don’t really care about them! I only care about me! I never even thought to wonder how my mom felt.”

            “Maybe you should ask her,” Lucas offered.

Short Story: Loved, Part 12 of 15

Thank you for continuing to read my story. I will not overload you with more stuff to read. Just go ahead. :) (But if you missed the beginning, click here.)

He could hear better now that the rain had stopped. Charlie breathed softly, hoping to hear something in the silent streets. Nothing.

            Trying not to give into his thoughts of failure, Charlie pressed on. He had no idea what the best way to go about this was, but he just kept trying. Perhaps his good intentions would guide him.

            Oh come off it, he thought. Good intentions mattered naught in this world. Charlie sat on a doorstep to think.

Short Story: Loved, Part 11 of 15

I am writing this WEEKS ahead of time!
Well, one week really. But by the time I get to part 15, it will be weeks!
And by the time YOU get to part 15, it will be WARM! I hope.
If you missed the beginning, click here.

Rebekah was dreaming a dream she hadn’t dreamt in a long time. She dreamt she was a flower, sitting quietly on a hillside. She opened up her bright white petals as wide as they would go, drinking in as much sunlight as she could. She was waiting for something, waiting to feel the wind brush through her petals. She could hear the soft sound of its breathing growing in the distance. Her stem stiffened; she reached up to greet its coming. The flowers below her started to frolic, then the ones right in front of her, then, oh glory, she herself was dancing. Not by her own power, but by the gentle touch of the wind kissing her petals and pulling them out to places they had never been before. She knew that every flower around her was also dancing, but she felt as if she were the brightest and the tallest of all. She felt as if the wind had picked her out personally as a dancing partner, for she was so open and willing to let his touch push her beyond her limits. The sun reached down his golden rays to look directly into her face. The spotlight pulled her up from the myriad, igniting her own flaming petals, as if each fragile piece that made up her face were more important than all the field that lay beneath her.

           Rebekah breathed softly. A peaceful smile graced her lips. Content for the first time in years, she lay quietly, until a damaging thought pierced her dreams. What if Charlie sees me like this? The joy was replaced with fear. These dreams displayed her deepest desires, and life had taught her that those must be protected from the rest of the world. Charlie was someone who did not respect boundaries. He would not believe in the mask she chose to show him; he had some ability to see past that. He could know everything about her, if he chose to. How terrifying.

Short Story: Loved, Part 10 of 15

It's almost done! I have actually been like organized and stuff and planned out the rest of the story posts. So I can promise you that if you read this one, you only have 5 more to read. Or, if you missed the beginning, well you have 15 to read. But you can start by clicking here: Loved, Part 1

She was walking blindly now. Rain had started pouring from the dark sky, pounding goblets of water into the pavement. The sun had long since gone down, and the buildings began to all look the same. All around her was dark. Where could she turn? She squatted down in the corner of a doorway, trying vainly to hide from the rain.