writing prompt 21

[melw]

I just thought of one

You partner dies, how do you deal with it.

Please use hte following words if possible

Love
Rage
tears
candle
diary

Have fun

MEL

[melw]

God gives
Word count: 482

I sat looking at my girls playing on the rug. Every time Lisa smiled I saw Peter’s face, and Lucy’s hair was just like Peter’s, right down to the little curls. I felt tears at the back of my throat, but swallowed them away.

I was at my desk, holding in my hands the diary, that I started when I got enageged. It was a record of love and devotion. It showed how each day I would fall more in love with my fiancé and then husband.

It had been 5 months and I had gone through all the stages of grief. Now I was accepting it. Coming home every evening and knowing he’s not there, made it real. It just wasn’t fair and I had raged against everyone who gave empty platitudes. How could they ever understand that I had lost the man I was going to grow old with?

I still recall the night he died. I had a friend look after the twins. I had candles, a bottle of wine chilling and had cooked his favourite meal. We hadn’t had a night like this since before the twins were born. I really had gone all out.

Then there was knock at the door. I wonder who this could be? I checked the time, Peter should have been home, but sometimes he worked a little late. I opened the door and standing there were two police officers. They both removed there hats and I collapsed to the floor. They didn’t have to say a word.

I went to the hospital and sat beside Peter’s bedside while all the machines whirred and beeped. His breathing was rhythmic, and I belived he would survive until the doctor came in. He was gone, no brain activity, the machines keeping him alive.

I heard a knock and the front door opened. Both Lisa and Lucy ran to greet a tall man who had entered. I smiled as he said. “How are my princesses?” He then looked at me and said “hiya Beautiful.”

How could I know God was going to bless me with two wonderful men to love? Mark was so different from Peter, but they both loved me. They both were wonderful Christian men and loved God.

Mark came up to me and said. “it’s his birthday isn’t it?”

I nodded while tears welled up and I was enveloped in a hug. It was as if god had sent Mark just when I needed him most. He also understood my reluctance to get married again, but still stood by me.

It was clear to me. God gave me my first husband and two little girls. He now gave me this man. He knew I would need support and he sent it in Mark. The man who I would one day marry. My heart had enough room for two.

MEL

[melw]

Partners

I heard laughter from one corner, how could someone be laughing on day like today? Didn’t they realise they had just buried a friend and colleague? It almost brought up some rage and anger. I took a deep breath

I looked over and saw on the table a photo of Brad smiling in his uniform. Beside it was the flag that his parents had received. They left a candle burning and it distorted in my tears.

No one knew what it was like holding someone you love dying in your arms. He was the closed thing to a brother I ever had. I had no family and Brad’s family took me in. We joined the force together, he joked that women always loved a man in uniform.

That hadn’t been too wrong. He thought Julia was the one, the one who loved him. Instead she was the one to end his life. If only I had told him my doubts, but it was too late now. It was too late for regrets.

“Hey Ricky” a mate called. I smiled and walked over. “Did you get the memo about new partners?”

“New partners?” I asked.

“They want to match us all up with rookies.”

I couldn’t imagine being without Brad, but I trusted him. A rookie would have no idea how to act or react to certain situations. It was a learning experience, but I didn’t want a rookie.

I looked across the room and met the blue eyes of a young guy. He was staring at me; I never backed down from a confrontation. He walked over and held out his hand. “I’m sorry about your partner. My name is Heath, Brad was my brother.”

“I know Brad and he didn’t have any brothers. Just three sisters.”

“I am not wanting to cause any problems, but I only just found out that I had a half brother. My mother left a dairy when she died. I earned enough money to make it here and arrived yesterday. I didn’t think I would be too late.”

I could see the tears in the young man’s eyes. I almost felt my own welling up. “What can I do for you Heath?”

“Tell me about Brad, we are going to have plenty of time together.” He motioned over to my boss. “Sergeant has assigned me to be your new partners.”

I stepped back, Brad’s half-brother as his new rookie partner. I didn’t think I could handle this. How was I meant to accept this? “Ricky it’s your turn to speak,” Brad’s mother said.

I stood up and smiled at the crowd. “Brad was amazing; he never let me down, except all the girls liked him instead of me. Seriously, Brad was a guy who would always have your back, and he saved my life a few times. All the guys from the force know how serious if can be, but if you have someone like Brad as your partner…” I looked down at Heath. “Brad’s loyalty and legacy will live on with his half-brother Heath as my new partner.”

MEL

[Textus Rec]

He fumbled in the darkness. Sweat dribbled down his forehead to produce itchy, damp lines on his cheeks. The more his frantic hands grabbed mystery boxes, books, and pieces of clothing, the faster the sweat poured. Where was that stupid bowling ball? Those are the first things that roll out of closets in the cartoons, but they’re awfully elusive in real life. The closet was deep and filled with a few years worth of clutter. He should have changed the light bulb that hung, uselessly, from the ceiling. He had intended to, of course. His intentions were some of the noblest in light bulb changing history, but he just never got around to actually doing the job. He bumped his head on a shelf, mumbled something incoherent, and decided he had put off the chore too long.

“Samaaantha!” he yelled, his voice muffled by the closet. “You know where the light bulbs are?”

No answer.

“That’s right,” he said softly, more to himself than his daughter, “You’re away at college. I forget sometimes. What’s it been – three, four weeks now?” He straightened and bumped his head again. He was too lonely for the bump to hurt.

The junk drawer. He could probably find a light bulb in the junk drawer. “Let’s see,” he quickly rummaged through the messy (but brighter) microcosm of the closet, “Rubber bands, a broken candle, papers, receipts, some chewing gum, and – what’s this?” He pulled a small leatherette book from the rubble of the junk drawer like an archeologist uncovering an ancient manuscript. He cautiously brushed off dust, a few loose screws, and other miscellaneous junk drawer crumbs from the little book.

“How long have you been in here,” he asked aloud, “underneath all this garbage?” It was his wife’s diary. She wouldn’t mind if he read it because she had left her mortal shell the year Samantha began high school.

He caressed the cover as he took the book to the kitchen table. There he opened the cover gingerly and read the first entry of the diary: Janie’s Rage on the Page, as titled by the bold and elaborate handwriting on the top of the first page.

Tomorrow is my wedding day!!! I’m so excited!! Daddy says that he’s so proud of me and that I picked a good man, and Mom told me that it’s going to be a nervousy, giggly, cry-ish, happy day for me! I have no clue what a nervousy, giggly, cry-ish, happy day is, but I guess I’ll find out tomorrow! I hope I can calm myself enough to get some sleep!

He fought back a tear as he remembered his experience on that night – he didn’t sleep a wink. He continued to the next entry. It was about the wedding night – they both fell asleep in their wedding attire as soon as they arrived at the hotel. He chuckled as he turned the page.

Every entry was a highlight of Janie’s life. He relived each moment as he sat there at the round table in the kitchen. Their honeymoon, their first argument, Samantha’s birth, the blizzard that shut down the whole city, Samantha’s first heartbreak – it was like Janie was whispering into his ear.

As the writing became more mature and refined, the voice in his ear became deeper and more sophisticated. He was almost afraid to turn around, afraid he might actually see her standing behind him. His vision blurred as the voice became a hoarse whisper. He wiped his eyes clear and read the last page.

I feel this might be my last day. I thought I would be more frightened than I am. In fact, I’m not frightened in the least. I understand now what I had thought I understood before: “the peace that passeth understanding.” I sang about it in church, now I cannot sing – not with my voice, anyway. My heart sings gloriously of my Redeemer and His love. He has given me this disease to battle, now He is giving me the blessed rest that follows the fight.

I pray that Samantha grows to be a woman strong in faith, character, and purity.

I pray that God gives my husband wisdom to take on the challenges he will undoubtedly face . . . and maybe someday he could change that light bulb in the closet!

[Tommie Lyn]

Good job, Mel and Textus Rec. Liked your stories.

[Tommie Lyn]

Amazing Grace
Word Count: 481


He cradled her, tried to infuse the warmth of his body into hers as the rising sun made a feeble attempt to warm the frozen morning. But a chill held her in its grasp, the same coldness that had claimed their two small sons first. The little warmth in Yonvglegi left him yet did nothing to strengthen Awiusdi's waning life force. She slipped away on quiet, unseen feet, and he couldn't stop her leaving.


When the last breath left her body, a numb, unbelieving denial gripped him. He smoothed the raven's wing of her hair with a rough hand, gently caressed her sunken cheek. She was gone, and he was alone.


“Move,” the soldiers shouted as they strode among the groups of Ani-Tsalagi. “Time to get going.”


Yonvglegi's sister touched his shoulder. “You must lay her in the wagon. We will bury her when they let us stop tonight.”


“No.”


“Please. They will--” her words broke off when a soldier shoved her shoulder. She rose and padded away.


The soldier tapped Yonvglegi's shoulder with the butt of his gun. “Get up. Put the body in the wagon and go.”


Yonvglegi struggled to his feet with Awiusdi's body in his arms. He couldn't let her go. He stumbled to join the people who were arising, continuing their forced journey, their backs to their mountain homes which lay in the distance behind them, their faces toward an unknown future. And they walked.


By midday, his arms were leaden masses, shot through with pain. But he couldn't lay her in the wagon. He struggled on, no tears marking his impassive face, the agony of his soul hidden behind his half-closed eyes. The tears slid instead down the cheeks of the white people who gathered along the way to watch as Ani-Tsalagi passed.

When evening came and the day's trek ended, his mother's clan gathered round him. The men dug Awiusdi's grave. At last, Yonvglegi laid her in the ground as the people sang the song taught them by missionaries, the song they'd sung at each hastily dug grave where they'd laid their loved ones in their final rest.


* * *

Private Jones dug a candle from his bag and lit it. He found his pencil stub, opened his diary and wrote:


“They buried three more today, so quiet, except for the singing. At each burial, they sing 'Amazing Grace' in their own language. They don't cry, but I do. My heart rages for them.”


* * *

Yonvglegi, exhausted and sore, did not sleep. He lay on the icy ground beside Awiusdi's grave, his heart aching, wishing he could follow his love to the spirit world, but he remained tied to this one by some stubborn thread of survival.


And when the cold gray light of another morning crept over him, he arose with the others, left his heart behind him and walked on.


The End


NOTE: On the Trail of Tears, there were an estimated 4,000 deaths. Ani-Tsalagi, the Cherokee people, sang “Amazing Grace” when they buried their loved ones along the way. The song is a sort of unofficial anthem of the Cherokee. At the link below, you can hear the song sung in Cherokee:


http://eveningrain.com/AmazingCherokee.html

[jacks girl]

Didn't mean to skip this one but i don't do killing people off well.

Sorry I'll skip this one. But wanted to let you know why.

jacks