Shancia Speaks: Short Stories Superb!

 Makenzie positioned her back against the wall, craving for a sponge- like texture to absorb her chaos. With arms outstretched she pressed back deeper and whispered thoughtful prayers that she aspired, would weave their way into heavens doors and into the ears of the Father. Makenzie then slid her back down on the wall and landed on her bottom; torn, ripped wide open. All her wounds were exposed and the vultures of life pecked at their fragility and all she could hear and  feel was pain. Her prayers echoed in mockery across and throughout the solemn room. Her wounds cut deeper and wider.....Gashing! Her prayers rolled out like drums, beating and rolling and increasing in tempo as the tears gushed down and her heart went racing and her mind went leaping and her soul went searching and her body starting flailing.....and Stop! She caught a ray of sun trailing through a crack in the wall and onto the floor and out of the blue she remembered that rainbows shine right after storms. ...

 Sarah knew that the fire was building up and there was nothing she could do to extinguish this burning depression. It was like being sucked into a never-ending whirlpool, spinning around and around forever? Who could Sarah speak to? Who could Sarah trust? As she walked along the hole-rigged, dirt road, with the devils' and the angels' voices playing around her head with such confusion, she knew what she had to do. The consequences of her choices loomed. They were inescapable. She had not meant for this heat to become so unbearable, this intolerable, this brutal. As Sarah walked, she thought to herself that sometimes her intentions are purely good but there is no way of controlling what it is interpreted by human nature. Sarah thought that this was hardest to accept. And on she prodded, searching for stream or a river to quench the greedy flames that were roaring inside her. Consuming her.There was no space left in Sarah's head for rejection,  for fear, for pain and for bei...

 Alfonso was a deadly charmer and Jamilla was the perfect snake. Ready for capture. Ready to claw. He blew his pipe in her direction with just the right tune and melody that instantly caused her to surrender at his feet. Entranced, she fell right under his spell. They met one rainy, cold night under a black sky with scattered clouds and an air of seduction, that only he could serve and master. The dance was lively, the crowd was growing and as he took two steps backward, which were his tactics, he bumped into her and the attraction peaked. Deafening. Contorting! Jamilla thought "Love at first sight or lust and take flight? Jamilla chose love. Who wouldn't? The pulsing rhythmic music took charge that night. Alfonso held on to Jamilla. Tight! He captivated her with his intense perfume, his firm piercing gaze and his soft yet commanding embrace. She was absorbed. She didn't even know this man but yet here she was fully immersed under his charm and frozen, under his spell. Tha...

 There she was......sitting in the garden, surrounded by slowly, drooping plants. They seemed to extend hugs, and even their leaves wept rainwater and dropped pearls of sadness on the ground. There Janie sat. Still. Pensive. Bewildered. Hopeless. She pondered being surrounded by so much beauty yet feeling so full despair. She never wanted this day to come where her skin would shed and leave her wounds exposed, only to have them picked at and poked with no hope for a bandage. Would the bleeding ever stop? However, sitting in that garden, with the hours flying by, listening to the birds sing their songs of reassurance and hearing the words of men who had lived through despair themselves, Janie was encouraged to live out her best self. Janie knew then what she was prepared to do because after all, this was her one chance at life. How else should she spend it but in seeking peace and happiness? The bright shining sun began to emerge through the rain clouds as if God himself had spoken,...

 When Amelia got the call to come now and collect all her belongings because out was where she now belonged....she was devastated. At only 15 she had to brace the harsh realities of this world from the outside looking in. Confusion, despair, fear, hopelessness. Those were her emotions. As she prodded up the staircase leading to her shattered home, she pondered on what could make a parent so angry that his only option was to direct her "out". No one stood with an umbrella of rescue, no one held out a bandage for comfort..it was just Amelia and her open bleeding wounds. With a grain of persistence and tear in her eye, she picked up each piece of clothing that was left on the ground. With every "pick up", she lost a piece of her heart. And without a word, and only tears, she marched back down the staircase into the unknown, slowly descending. She was on her way out.

 In the beginning, I was told that this part of life's journey would be fruitful. What I was not told in the beginning is that some fruits are more difficult to harvest than others and that actually acquiring those fruits requires us to fall over and over from the ladder called "Reach". In the beginning I was told that I had to be good and I was told that by being good I would attract good. What I was not told in the beginning is that even while we are good, our expectations of wanting others to be just as good often leads to massive disappointment and that if we truly wanted to be good, we should just be good and expect nothing in return. In the beginning I just want to reach the end. And then when I reach the end, I'll find a new beginning. Cheers to life, the beginning of the end, or rather the end of the beginning?