Mini-Story 3 (Part 3)

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I am about to lose consciousness. I can feel it coming, much like the familiar calm before the storm, but I am helpless to stop it from taking me. My eyes are as heavy as a whale being dropped into the ocean; they are closing quickly. Part of me wants to let them. The other part of me wants to stay awake, if I possibly can. 

Suddenly, I see something. It gives me hope, but also energy, to stay alert, from fear of what is coming. There is a dark blue vehicle heading directly towards me. I can see it passing over a hill in the distance. Headlights shimmer into my eyes, so I can’t make out the driver. I fight desperately to stay awake now, as whoever it is approached, aware even in my exhausted state that the car might have someone unfriendly in it. I have to be ready for absolutely anything. 

Of course, I reason within that I can not protect myself currently, hungry and thirsty as I am. But I am hoping against hope that I won’t need to defend myself. I am praying to God, that someone is coming to save me. 

I can hear the tires crunching the gravel as the car speeds closer. I almost think it is going to collide with me. I brace myself for the surely pain-filled impact, but at the last second, the car skids to an abrupt stop, mere inches away from me. 

I release a held breath as the driver’s door smoothly opens, and someone steps out. My eyes are now widely open as the person walks towards me. My worry lessens when I see that it is a woman, but I still don’t drop my guard. After all, it was a woman who took me the first time. I know with a surety that this is not the same female. 

“Shalynn Meyers?” She asks in a kind voice, and I don’t know if she is honestly kind, or just pretending to be. 

My throat is severely parched, so I simply nod my head, unable to speak yet. I am shocked that someone knows me, is actually looking for me. Who is she, though? I don’t know her at all. 

She has straight, long brown hair spilling over both of her small shoulders, her petite frame covered with a violet-colored pants suit, attire which is too hot for this harsh climate. Despite that, she appears calm and comfortable. Her eyes are a bright, penetrating green, very serious. Her lips are not too thin, but not too thick, and she has a fairly tan complexion. Her skin is clear, and her cheekbones are full, but not chubby. 

“Hello,” she says, leaning down, as she holds her hand out to me. 

I reach to shake it, trying to be polite, but have to drop my hand, as I am still weary from hunger. 

She moves her hand until it is holding mine, and she squeezes it gently. The gesture is comforting, but my tired mind stays cautious, just in case.

“I’ve been searching for you, Shalynn. We knew you were taken away, but no witnesses came forward to assist us in our search, so we were looking blindly, but we never gave up hope that we’d find you. I was assigned to your case the afternoon you were abducted.”

Questions swim rapidly through my mind, making me dizzy, as I try to comprehend my situation and her words. Why would someone be looking for me? The girl that no one notices suddenly has multiple people looking for her? And how did they find me? Not that I wasn’t grateful that she’d found me, but it’s not like there’s a trail of clues leading to where I’m at. None of this makes any sense to me. 

She has a medium-sized, black leather bag slung over her right shoulder, and as she helps me to my feet, and leads me to the car, I wonder what was in it. I move with her, and when she opens the passenger side door, I sit down on a soft, blue velvet seat. 

From the bag, she withdraws a clear canteen of water and several sandwiches, individually wrapped in plastic. 

“Please eat, and get your strength back. Then we can talk.”

I immediately think she is working with the woman who’d taken me. It had to be laced with poison. One bite, and I’d drop dead. She’d come to finish me off, make sure I could never save those people. My distrust seems to show on my face, because she places a comforting hand on my shoulder. 

After unwrapping a sandwich, she breaks a piece off and eats it, which does make me feel better about eating the food she’s providing. 

“I’m here to help you,” she says solemnly, flashing a badge that she lets me examine closely.

She is an official. I’d once studied the differences between fake badges and the real ones. Hers is legit.

I nod, and she puts it away, leaving me to eat. The thirst is bothering me more right now, so I take a few swallows of water first, then finish the first sandwich, eating it carefully, not letting any crumbs fall. It is delicious, and I eat three more, letting her gather her thoughts, curiously wondering how’d she managed to find me…in the middle of nowhere.

Mini-Story 3 (Part 2)

​As I walk beside the lonely trees, I slowly think up something on the subject of friendship. It steadily turns into a rant of religious proportions. I don’t mind the challenge. I welcome it. I need this. To think. I will lose my sanity, and quickly, at that, if I stop my mind from occupying itself with a task.

This lecture stems from my hurt over having a dear friend in not so many words, end our friendship. So it is easily something I have strong opinions on. This was it: 
‘Are you a good friend? Do you listen when someone needs an ear? Do you feel compassion towards those that are in pain? Do you wake up everyday feeling as if you are with purpose, intent on helping someone? Do you feel joy when you make someone feel better, taking away their sadness, and giving them a reason to smile? Has anyone ever shown you that exact same kindness? Do you know how easily trust can be severed? Have you lost a friend’s trust? Have you broken that same trust? Have you ever lost a friend? Have you seen what losing a friend can do to someone’s heart, someone’s spirit? 
Friendship is a rare and special thing. Sometimes people pretend to be your friend, but when they learn your worst secrets, they start avoiding you. Perhaps their view of you has changed. They don’t see you the way they once did. Maybe they don’t want to be your friend any longer. Perhaps some people are dishonest, using others around them, so that their ends are justified by your means. No matter what happens throughout a friendship, whether it ends, restarts, or is decimated by another’s influence, it is always a tragedy to lose a friend. 
Not because of tragic matters such as death, but I am speaking of when the friendship is over. Not to say that a death of a friend is any less difficult. They both are. Death certainly more so, but the point I am trying to make is that when friendship ends, it is a very sad matter indeed. Sometimes it’s the end for good, while they are either alive or passed on. 
Sometimes there’s nothing you can do, but let go of that hope that they want you to be a part of their life again, because it’s truly over. Sometimes it is meant to end; if they no longer wish to be your friend, and nothing you can say can convince them to continue to be in your life, at that point, it is healthy to accept that which was is now over. They’ve helped you all they can. 
Keep the memories of them inside your heart, but try your best to believe that there will be other friends. And if you can find one, just one, that you are friends with for the duration of your life, then count yourself exceptionally blessed.
Time passes…it goes on and ever on. You can not slow it down, stop it, changed it’s movement, reverse it, or alter it in any way. It goes on no matter what decisions we make. We are but a very small piece of a very big universe. All you can do is make the most of the time you are given. Do not waste that precious time by worrying over those things you have absolutely no control over. Just as you have free will, so does every other living being, creature, or person.
Maybe you’ve been on the giving end…maybe you ended a friendship. How do you think that person feels? Do you think they miss you? Allow me to answer from personal experience. I guarantee they miss you, even think of you frequently. Yes, it’s pure agony without you in their lives, because they thought you would always be a part of it. But they are okay. 

Life is not a permanent thing. Unless you have faith in Jesus Christ, and you believe that God sent Him to die for the world’s sin, so that we may have life more abundantly, only then you are free from the Second Death that is the fate of many. The Bible says that the way of the righteous is a narrow path, but broad is the way that leads to destruction. You must not only believe in the ways that Jesus preached of, you must live your life according to the Word of God. Life is meaningless without Them in it. Learn while you can, how precious life is! Do not let it pass you by, then one day wake up with a long list of regrets. Live life the way you are meant to. No one said it’s going to be instant, or easy. It does take trying, learning, sometimes failing, to get to a point where you are doing everything you should be doing, and not just what you want to do. Be who God designed you to be. Don’t fear death. It comes anyway. You can’t stop it either, just like time. So live! Just live! Death is neutral, and it takes all. Death does not stop, it cannot be avoided. We are all born. We live. And at some point, we all will die. So, that’s why we need to live each moment as if we don’t expect even our next breath! It’s not guaranteed. Do not delude yourself into thinking you will get other chances at life. This is it! You only get one. Don’t waste it. This is the end of my second lecture.’
By the time I am done thinking this one, my eyes seem to be filled with hope. God is giving me strength, as He so often does in my life. I am thankful for His presence, always. I have been through so much, but I know that this isn’t the end. I am meant for more, for greater things. Happier times are ahead of me, if only I can withstand this. I know that with God watching over me, I will get through this. I know it with every fiber of my body and soul. 
With that assurance, I begin to walk, in one of the directions I’ve walked before, knowing I’ll find my way to exactly where I need to be!

Mini-Story 3 (Part 1)

​Gray pastures…the once green grass, has, over an unknown amount of time, died. Ashen trees, with not a 
leaf in sight to adorn their branches. Perhaps they’ve all blown away. Empty nests, where the birds used to be, sit there in the trees, the only reminder that there were living things here at some point. They too, have left this forsaken area. 

That which was once teeming with multiple signs of life, is now a desolate wasteland. Where the delicate flower petals were once beautiful and colorful, now they are stark and withered, not so pretty anymore.

An ache fills my heart as I survey the land with exhausted eyes. Where is home? I wonder. I am utterly lost, stuck in absolutely unfamiliar surroundings. How will I ever find my way out of this place?

My only source of light is partially hidden by dreary clouds, the sun that cannot give energy to this lifeless location. I can see no blue above me. The sky is gray, as dull as the land beneath it. 

Horrible scenes start to flash through my mind. The way I came to be where I currently am. Someone had taken me from a sidewalk, even though there had been people nearby. No one had suspected a thing. Why, may you ask? Because it had looked like I was going with my captor. I assume it had been some form of mind-control. 

My memory was slightly hazy as I try to recall certain details. Like who she was, the woman who had been driving the car who’d dropped me off in this spot, then sped away, leaving me without food or water; I realize that I am probably going die out here, if I wasn’t strong enough to endure this. I try to think of what she looked like. All I can remember is that she had bright red hair. Her face was fuzzy in my mind, like one of those blurry censors they place over someone’s face to protect their identity. I can’t remember any significant features that would allow me to identify her, or even give an accurate description to a sketch artist. 

It’s not like I matter to a single soul, other than myself. My family is far away, and I wonder if they even noticed I was gone. My mother is always so self-absorbed in herself, and my father gambles away what little money he manages to earn at his construction job.

Having no siblings made it so they expected me to do everything, as far as chores went. Those I don’t mind, but when they have high expectations of me, telling me to enter a field where I can earn tons of money so I can “take care of them.” Like degrees come that easily. How can they expect that out of me when they barely completed highschool with less than average grades? That is what I find highly irritating. 

And besides, that’s not what interested me. I wasn’t seeking wealth. Far from it. No, what I want to do is be a motivational speaker, so that I can help others, maybe inspire someone. I feel as if there’s a great deal of wisdom inside my mind, but I’m still discovering it, and making it as amazing as it can be. 

This gives me something to strive for. I have to survive this. If not for myself, then for the others I can possibly inspire with my words. 

I’m so tired. I haven’t slept in days. But I fear if I close my eyes, they won’t open again. I have to stay conscious.

More memories float to the surface of my mind. There had been people…in a room. Their ages and ethnicities varied, and I vaguely recall they all looked haggard, close to death. I remember the horrible stench that had come from that room, and how the misery had been palpable. They’d looked at me as if I was there to rescue them. Believe me, I’d wanted to save them, but it was at that point that I found a gap in my memory. There was only blackness, and then, I was standing on the sidewalk, near a popular restaurant, The Chicken’s Farm. The next thing I knew, she’d taken me. 

So, that’s why I was here. Because of what I had witnessed. 

Getting back to my dream and goal of being a motivational speaker now. I know with certainty that I am going to get through this, and it will be my dream that motivates me to stay awake. I’ve already tried walking in several directions. I don’t feel like trying that again. 

So, as I fight to stay awake, I decide to once more “think” my speech. I don’t have the strength to use my voice, so I simply close my eyes, and think it. This is the speech I’ve compiled, what I am will use as my first public speaking subject. I run it through my mind again:

‘Words have a tremendous amount of power in them. Never allow yourself to be persuaded otherwise. An absolute truth exists in every word we speak. Why would you not say what you feel?

Some people like to distort this truth. However, ask anyone if words have either lifted them up, or broken their spirit. Why is that? Because words, either whispered, uttered, said, or screamed, they have power. Words are used to communicate, when speaking, or used to convey a meaning, when writing, or used to acquire information, or tell a story, when reading.

Words are literally everywhere, and they can impact many things. They are used in everyone’s daily life. We speak, and we read, and we (those of us who do) write. So, these points being made, it is clear to say that words are somewhat (for some) but for me, very important.

Without words, and the ability to effectively connect letters to words to sentences to paragraphs, we wouldn’t be able to learn very much at all. History would be non-existant, other than what people would hear by word-of-mouth. So would books, and poetry, plus every other form of writing that exists today. Medical texts, historical documents, plays, movie scripts, newspapers; those are examples of things that use words on a daily basis. There are constant and numerous other daily functions that use words as a means of communicating or that serve as a way to educate and inform us.

Imagine for a moment, a world without words, a planet where speech is obsolete and never used. What type of life would people lead if they didn’t ever talk? Without words, life would be dull, empty, and rather, in my opinion, boring and meaningless.

Words have power. I keep pointing this out because it’s true. If you wanted to express to someone how you are feeling, what would be the easiest way to do that? Yes, they could tell from your facial expressions or body language, perhaps a small amount of what you are feeling, but they wouldn’t thoroughly understand your intent without hearing your words. I’ve already stated several points, but I’d like to make a few more.

How many of you have had someone hurt you verbally with words (either harsh or hateful, or in any way demeaning)? Okay, now let’s reverse that. How many of you have done the exact same thing at some point to someone else? In both cases, words can be used as a weapon.

There’s a few sayings that come to mind here. “If you didn’t mean it, you wouldn’t have said it.”

People generally will say what they are feeling or whatever is on their mind. But you can’t always take words at face value. Some people literally say everything that pops into their head, while others think carefully about each word they say. It’s amazing how our brains make connections and allow us to think and react and speak, all seemingly without effort. We can thank God for giving us these qualities, and life itself. 

The other saying I’ve heard is that sometimes, or most of the time, “emotional and verbal abuse hurts more, and can be more difficult to overcome, than physical abuse.” Scars will arise with every bodily cut and scrape you will ever have, but scars imprinted on your heart will sometimes stay with you for the duration of your entire life. No one who has ever lived, I don’t think, has said that life is easy, and if they have said it, I disagree entirely. Nothing in life is effortless. It all takes effort. This is the end of my first lecture.’