THE REASON I HAVE BEEN MUTE TO THE WORLD.

Chapter Numero UNO of my story Ten Zillion Fireflies.





February 21, 2009 
1:52 a.m.

I burrowed further under the covers. Each breath I took felt like a dagger in my side. This was not happening, not right now. I could hear mom and dad’s angry yelling from down the hallway. Was it impossible for them to stop for one night? The screaming worsened as loud crashes began to bounce off the walls, echoing down the hall in into my bedroom. Great, I thought. Now they’re breaking stuff.

Now would be the time that Brendon would be crawling into bed, wrapping his long arms around me. 

“They’re being idiots.” He would say. “I wish that they would just go ahead and divorce.” I would then nod, agreeing with him, and he would continue on. “Have you heard what they said about the ocean?” I would shake my head, even though he knew that I was lying. “It’s full of salt,” he would say before lulling me to sleep with another of his lullabies. 

I quietly got out of bed and made my way over to his room. As I turned the light, I was surprised to find it exactly the way he left it. They said after two months the shock would fade, but it still hadn’t. I don’t think that it ever will. I could feel the hot tears stinging my face as I slowly crawled into my twin brother’s unmade bed. It still smelled painfully of him. On the nightstand was a framed picture of our trip to Alaska. Bren was wearing one of his laughing smiles; the kind that took up his whole face. I was surprised to find a matching one covering my face also. I miss you so much Brenny, I thought, calling him by my special nickname. 

I took the picture, cradling in my arms like an overprotective mother. I heard the door to my parent’s room slam, and mom stomping down the hallway in high heels. She paused when she got to his room, passing it up and walking back several times. Slowly the bedroom door creaked open sending a small crack of light to rest upon the wall. 

“Madelynne, hunny.” She paused, waiting for my answer, but I lay staring at the wall, pressing the picture in tighter to me. 

“Madelynne, I’m leaving. I can’t stay here anymore.” She said as I finally looked back at her. She looked around the room. “I’m sorry Mads,” she said as she sat on the edge of the bed. 
“He is not the man I married.” I could hear the tears in her voice. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered as she got up and walked away. And then I was alone again. The feeling of abandonment added to the black hole in my chest. Why couldn’t Brendon be here? He could make this all better in a matter of minutes.

The frame moved making a small scratch across my arm. As bad as it sounded, I finally felt the relief I was looking for. I had to have more. I walked slowly into the bathroom, contemplating what I was about to do. I knew exactly where to look, reaching into the cabinet; I pulled out a brand new razor. I sat on the floor looking at it for a while. Maybe this would help, but was this really the answer? Brendon tried so hard to stop, but he told me how in control it made him feel. Several minutes later, I threw the razor back into the cabinet, and reached up to the medicine cabinet instead.

I grabbed the painkillers taking eight more than was recommended on the bottle. I quickly took them as I heard the bedroom door open again. A small knock sounded on the bathroom door.

“Maddie,” dad said quietly. 

“Yes?” I rested my hands against the sink.

“You need to go back to bed. I’m going to work. Don’t wait up for me tomorrow night.” He said, and then, he was gone. The tears quickly filled my eyes and ran down my cheeks. 
I found the razor one more time, and sat in the bathtub. I looked at my scar-free legs one more time, before slowly making the very first cut. It hurt. A lot at first, but then everything started to feel numb. Finally, relief.


February 22. 2009
12:27 p.m.

I winced as I slid into my jeans. My unhealed cuts rubbed against the fabric. The shower was horrible. Brendon never told me about the after effects of cutting. But I guess it was just something that I had to deal with now. I grabbed my keys off the desk and rummaged through my purse for my wallet. Giving up, I just took the whole thing. The mall was practically empty except for a large group of Brendon’s old friends sitting by the fountain. I tried to ignore them, I had to go and talk to Amy to see if there was any way that I could have my job back.

“Madelynne,” I heard Cam call. I sighed, I was almost there. Maybe I could act like I didn’t hear him. I began to walk a little faster. “Madelynne,” he said as he jogged to catch up. No, a getaway was not possible this time. I stopped and turned to him.


“What Cam?” I asked in an annoyed tone. This made him smile.

“Still hate me huh?” He asked making me roll my eyes and start to walk away. He grabbed my arm, “Madelynne, wait, please. I didn’t mean it. Look, I really wanted to talk to you.”

“Sorry Cam,” I said as I yanked my arm away storming off, “I have to be somewhere.”

He never moved from his spot. “Will you meet me for lunch? Please?” I walked into the store with no reply.

“Madelynne!” Ammiee shrieked as she ran over to me. “Hey! I’ve missed you.”

“Hey.” I said with a smile.

“Please tell me that you are coming to get your job back.” She pleaded. I nodded shocked. “Great. I still have your vest waiting on you.”

“Wow, thanks.” I said with a smile. “I can start tomorrow if you want.” I watched her eyes light up.

“Oh my gosh yes! Thank you! So tomorrow at four?” I nodded. Ammiee got a worried look on her face. “So have you started back to school yet?” I looked at her sheepishly.

“I don’t think I’m ready for that just yet.” She nodded and wrapped her arm around my shoulders.

“If you ever want to talk, you know I’m here for you.” I nodded as I began to walk towards the door. “See you tomorrow kiddo.”
I had just gotten outside the door, when I saw Cam sitting on the bench.

“Well hello there. Have lunch with me?” He asked as he peered over his magazine. I laughed at him as I walked away. I had no intent on eating with him. “Look, Madelynne, I’m in pain too. He was my best friend.”

“Yeah, and you’re the reason that he’s gone.” I replied viciously before walking away.

“Madelynne, I’m sorry. I don’t expect you to forgive me, I can’t forgive myself. I just thought that maybe, maybe we can help each other.” The tears began to fall down my face. Not here.

“Cam,” I whispered as I watched sympathy fill his face. I had secretly always had a crush on him. He reached out slowly, touching my cheeks and wiping away the tears falling from my eyes.

“I’m just asking for friendship Mayjay.” He whispered. I was surprised to hear him say Brendon’s nickname for me. It was a horrible combination of my first and middle names, but Bren was the only one who could use it.

“Cam,” I whispered again before he pulled me into a hug. I pushed him away. “I can’t trust you.”


4:53 p.m.

I snuggled up in my blanket. I hadn’t used this window seat in ages. I had just begun to write in my journal again, when the doorbell sounded. Who in the world could that be? I made my way down to the door to find Cam standing outside. Immediately I slammed the door closed. The doorbell rang again. And again, and again.

“What do you want Cam?” He smiled, pulling a bouquet of daisies from behind his back.

“I just want to be friends.” I looked at him uncertain as he spoke.
“Please?”

“No Cam. I don’t even want to see you. You killed him.” I slammed the door again, this time running upstairs. I wrapped back into my blanket and picked up my journal, not really in the mood to write anymore. I looked at the blank page. I love blank paged journals. They are so unstructured, so… free. Sometimes I wondered if doing this even mattered anymore, if it was even helping. I flipped back to page one. To my darling and most talented sister, never forget your hopes or dreams. Fill this journal with your words like you’re going to do to the world someday. I love you. Brenny. I turned back to the blank page and began.

Day 64
I slept in his bed again last night. Surprisingly it still smelled like him. Mom left, I don’t know where dad is. He still won’t look at me. Mom said it was because Bren and I looked so much alike. I think that inside, dad still blames me for not being there, for not dying too, or for not dying instead. I wish he could see how bad it makes me feel. The first thing he said when he saw me in my bed that night, was that I should have been with him. That I shouldn’t have let him sneak out. I cut last night.



February 28, 2009
10:39 p.m.

I heard a soft knock on the door, and sat up in my bed.
“Come in.” The door creaked open, and dad poked his head in.

“Madelynne, can we talk?” He asked. His voice sounded hopeful, and he smiled when I nodded. He came in and took a seat on the edge of my bed. “Look Maddie, I’m moving out. I can’t take it here anymore.” I looked at him in shock. You have got to be kidding me.

“Are you serious?” I asked. He nodded. “Well, where are we going to go?” A frown covered his face.

“Maddie, I’m going, alone.” He explained, rubbing the back of his neck. I felt my mouth hang open. “Look, Madelynne, you are eighteen, you can take care of yourself, you have a job, and you can have the house. I’ll sign it over next week, it’s paid off, I’ll send you money for the bills, but I just can’t stay here.” I looked at him in shock.

“You’re leaving me, alone?” I asked as a hurt look covered my face.

“Yeah, I’m moving out tomorrow.” It was now that he got up to leave without saying another word.


March 1, 2009
2:48 a.m.

I sat in the bathtub watching the blood flow from thin slices in my legs. Each line flowed into another creating a picture in the form of beautiful chaos.

I remembered Brendon’s cuts; long jagged marks that marred his legs. I only saw them once. We were leaving, and I accidentally walked in on him changing. I was horrified. I didn’t understand why… how he could do that to himself. I think he might have even tried to explain, but I wasn’t willing to stay around to listen.

I waited until late that night to tell on him, I’m not sure that I should have now. Mom freaked out, and I thought that dad was going to beat him to death. I was positive that he was going to hate me, but at 3 a.m. when mom and dad finally went to bed, Bren snuck in my room. I must have apologized a thousand times, but he only waved it off as he turned off the light and crawled into bed with me.

He told me everything that night. About Carly, the girl he had met in New York. About he stayed in touch with her until she died. Suicide. I held him as he cried that night. As he went through the withdrawal from cutting; as he mourned the loss of what suicide had so easily stolen from him. Before that night, I had never seen Brendon cry. I didn’t like it, but I was glad to see that he trusted me with something this big. He told me that he had begun to cut when the night she died. And then, everything made sense. He was in love, and she was gone.

I never told him how bad it had hurt me because at the time it seemed selfish, and he was grieving. It’s not like he could help it anyway. But it still wounded me. We were twins. We had always done everything together. And he had gone off and fallen in love without me. Dang it Bren.

The hot tears made their way down my face, and for once I didn’t try to wipe them away. There was no one to hide from here. I cried myself out in that old bathtub before carefully bandaging my legs and retrieving my journal.

Day 71

Dawn is breaking and twelve new cuts have been made. Dad has left. I have to work with Cam, who is trying to be my friend again. I’m not really sure how to process all of this right now.

Brendon always told me to journal when the words were fresh in my mind. I left it open on my desk, allowing the pen to bookmark my page and crawled into bed. If there is one thing that I know, it’s that I can not go on alone. Cam comes to my mind instantly. Maybe, I thing as I drift off to unconsciousness.




March 3, 2010
4:39 p.m.

I was just getting used to the steady pace of working in the bookstore. Beside me, the new work schedule was tacked to the wall, silently reminding me that Ammiee was looking after me. She had cleverly arranged my workdays to alternate with Cam's so that we wouldn't have to see each other at all, with the exception of a brief encounter on Saturdays. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a man approach the counter. As I turned to greet him, I struggled to maintain a smile.

"Sorry," Cam says. "I know you don't want to see me, but I needed this." He explains as he rubs his neck nervously. "Look, Madelynne," he continues as he hands over a twenty. "Let me be there for you. Please." He says in a begging tone.

"Have a nice day Cam." I reply, handing him the bag and the change. Luckily for me, he gets the hint and walks away. After Cam is gone, only a small trickle of customers fill the rest of the day.


March 7, 2010
12:14 p.m.

I sat in the parking lot at school for thirty minutes before I could actually make myself walk in. I had technically been enrolled in a home school program for the last month. It was the one good thing that dad did for me after being sent to court. I never did anything though. Just laid around the house. Sleeping mostly. But even sleep had become a battle now.

All I had to do was get our stuff. That's all. But still, the butterflies roaring in my stomach was enough to make me sick. At the last minute I turned and ran back to my car. I couldn't do this. There was no way, but even more surprises awaited me at home. When I walked in, I found mom sitting in the living room waiting on me.

"Hey Mads," she said, but I only scowled in her direction. I wasn't entirely sure that she even deserved that. "Look Madelynne," mom said as she sighed. "I love you." Mom said making me laugh.

"Yeah mom, you have a great way of showing it." I retorted as I sifted through the mail that she had so kindly went through and brought in for me.

"I do. Look, I'm staying over at Sherrie's with her and the kids and her friend Carol. I just wanted to tell you that a room is open for you." She offered.

"No thanks," I answer, opening the letter from dad.

Madelynne,

I hope you are well. Here is some money. Pay the bills, and then buy yourself something nice. I love you.

Dad


The I love you at the end was a nice touch. Thanks dad. Thanks for the nice smack across the face. I thought as the tears begin to run down my face.

"I'm going to go." Mom said.

"Yeah," I agreed. "It's what you're good at." I looked at the hurt look on her face.

"I'm grieving too Madelynne." She exclaimed, defending herself.

"Yeah, and you're the mom. I'm not asking you to be strong. I never asked you for that. I just asked you to be here with me." I yelled at the top of my lungs. My voice broke in the end, leaving me there to look at here with crazed but broken look on my face.

"It's been two months Maddie. It's time to move on. Brendon wouldn't want this." She said quietly. This lit the blaze that was only smoldering inside me.

"You wouldn't know mom," I sneered. "You were too busy fighting with dad to even notice we were alive. Did you know he had been in love? Did you know that she killed herself? That he never got to tell her his feelings? I'll bet you didn't even know her name was Carly." I accused making her look away ashamed. "Just get out." I demanded.

"Madelynne, I hate to be the one to tell you this, but you wern't the one whose life ended in that wreck. Life isn't going to just freeze so that you can get over yourself. People loose the ones they love everyday. I thought that I had raised you better than to be a selfish brat. Look around you Madelynne Jael. You're not just hurting yourself, but everyone around you too." Mom yelled from across the room. I watched as she shook her head and walked out shutting the door behind her.

Through the blinding tears, I made my way to my bathroom. I let the blade release all of my anger that night. The abandonment, the aching empty pain in my heart roared causing me to cry myself to sleep.

After finally cleaning my wounds, I counted. Thirty-four. I scrambled to my room and dug through my desk looking for the cell phone that I never used anymore. I called the one person that I knew I could trust.

"Hello." Ammiee said.

"Hey Ammiee, um, I know this would require a huge favor." I say uncertain. "But can I start working with Cam again?"


March 23, 2009
4:57 P.M.

The store was quiet and empty. I settled into the chair behind the register. Cam leaned against the counter studying me. I had begun to request work with him. Slowly at first, studying his reactions. I was glad Ammiee hadn't told him what was going on yet.

Cam's hunter green vest contrasted beautifully against his pale skin. "I'm really glad you're back Madelynne. It has really been lonely here without you." Cam said as he pulled on the partial smile that I was so fond of. It wasn't hard to see how I had fallen so hard for him at one time, but now he has become ab unanswered wish, a dream of a past life. I wonder if he realizes this. If he even cares. I look back up to my best friend, the one who tried like crazy to be there during my loss. I fall into the arms of the one who had caused my brother's death, and I relax. Instantly Cam's arms wrap around me, pulling me into him. The scent of his cologne fills my nose as his fingers lace through my hair.

"Oh Madelynne," he whispers, running his fingers through my hair to my shoulders. "I am so sorry." I wasn't prepared when he pushed me back, and even more unprepared for when his lips touch mine. It is a small kiss, but nontheless, one that I do not return. Whether for fear or shock, I do not know. I turn from him, back to my work, but now I wear a smile because I know that now I have a friend. And maybe, just maybe we'll be more than that.



April 2, 2009
12:01 p.m.

I sighed as I picked up my journal. I had neglected to write for a while and looked at the last entry. Somehow the feelings I mentioned were foreign to me like they were a part of an old dream. I heard the doorbell chime, and set down my book again, pulling on a jacket to cover the fact that I had yet to shower. I opened the door with a gasp.

"Hey." Cam said with a pearly white smile.

"Hi." I replied.

"We're still friends right?" He asked, and I nod.

"Want to come in? We could watch a movie." I offer opening the door wider. Cam grinned.

"I have to be at work in ten minutes. Can we take a rain check?" He asks.

"You have to be at work in ten minutes, but you're on my doorstep why?" I ask playfully.

"I wanted to see you." Cam said thoughtfully. "Tell you what, let me take you out after work."

"Take me out? What are you the mafia?" I said giggling, and making him laugh also.

"Please MayJay, we could go ice skating." He suggested.

"Ice skating huh?" I asked; Cam nodded. "In April?" I ask suspiciously. He nodded yes. "You can ice skate?" I ask amazed, and he nodded again.

"Trust me." He begs, and looking into those eyes the shade of ocean waves, I have to. "I have to go. I'll come around eight okay?" Cam pleads.

"Okay, eight." I say with a hopeful smile.


7:58 p.m.

I waited anxiously by the door. This was a trick. He is not going to show up. There is no way. Haha Cam. Very funny.


7:59 p.m.

I began to pace the floor. And even if he does show up, I think. Why am I even giving him the time of day? He killed Brendon. He didn't really kill him, a voice reminded me. I rolled my eyes.


8:00 p.m.

The doorbell chimed and suddenly the butterflies erupted in my stomach. Wait, this is not a date I reminded myself. It's just two friends going to the same place, together. That's all. I opened the door to find Cam with yet another bouquet of flowers. This time yellow roses were in his hands.

"You look amazing Madelynne." Cam said with a smile.

"Thanks," I said. "You do too." And he did.

Cam drove to the skating rink, which I never knew existed, paid for our skates, and led me over to a bench beside the rink. "Are you ready?" He asks me with a smile in his eyes. I nodded allowing him to to pull me onto the ice with him.

"So," I started, looking down at my wobbly ankles. "Cameron Sanders the ice skater. Somehow it doesn't sound like it's very popular with your friends. When did you start?" I ask him struggling not to fall.

"It's easier when you don't look down," he says, gently pulling my chin up to look in my eyes.
"I started when Brendon died. I've came out here everyday since then. I've stopped MayJay. Drinking, drugs, everything, it's all over." He admitted. I looked up into his amazingly blue eyes, and then began to fall. He looked surprised as he fell on his back, and I landed in his lap. But he smiled, and we both burst out laughing.

"Can I get you some coffee?" He asks me. I nod as he pulled me back onto my feet and helped me out of the rink.

He led me to one of the tables in the back, and slid in beside me setting my coffee down. We sat there for a while in silence. It was nice.

"MayJay," Cam began, "I've always liked you and I know that rushing into a relationship isn't what you want, but..." He said no more, because it was at that very moment that I decided to kiss him. For the first time in two months, I was happy. I feel his hand on my cheek, gently pulling me closer to him.

"Let's take it slow then. Okay?" I offer with a smile, and the contagious smile on his face was identical to the one on mine.


April 10, 2009:
4:27 p.m.

Cam’s hand found mine as we stood together.

“Ready?” He asks looking down at me. I take a deep breath and nod. He waits patiently for me to step forward. Seconds pass by forming minutes. The only things that I can hear is the steady sound of Cam’s even breathing and the gentle breeze blowing past us.

It is a cold April, snow still lining the shady ground. The heavy jacket hung loosely around me, easily showing the weight I had lost in the past two months. I could feel the warmth of Cam’s hand through both of our gloves, and I was thankful he was here. I place a quick kiss to his cheek and begin to walk.

Twelve steps later I was there, and fell to my knees in front of my brother’s tombstone. It was well kept, as clean as it was on February 2nd. Cam stayed back, letting me have my moment. Oh Bren, I thought. I miss you so much. I don’t know what to do, and I’m kind of dating the guy that stole your life. Mom and Dad have left me, I’m all alone.
“If you were only here,” I whispered aloud. I sat there for a while in the silence, before standing and joining Cam on the bench beside me. He gave a partial smile that melted my heart before wrapping my hand inside his and pulling it in his lap.

We sat there like that for what seemed an eternity. I knew what I had to do. In a way, my mom was right. I needed to continue to live. Brendon wouldn’t want me to be like this.

“Cam,” I said, my shaky voice made me nervous, and I could tell I had his undivided attention. “Can you help me do something?”


5:54

Cam followed as I led him through the house.

“Are you sure that you’re up for this?” I ask. I would not blame him if he wasn’t. He pulled his lovely half smile on his face.

“Not really,” he admits. “But, I’m willing to try.” He says which makes me smile. Not because he is strong, but because he is courageous. Because if I asked, he would be willing to just be friends. Because he helps me take the jumps that I wouldn’t dare dream of taking alone. I look back up to him, biting my lip. What would Brendon have to say about this? I smiled at Cam, before opening the door. I could smell Brendon as I fumbled for the light.

“Wow,” Cam says amazed. “No one’s touched it at all have they?” he asks, and I shake my head to answer. “Why don’t you take the desk, and I’ll work on the closet.” He offers worrying that I’m not going to be in the mood to sort through Brendon’s underwear.

“Okay, um… The shoes, socks, belts, and undies can go, but his pants and scarves go in that box, and the shirts need to go on the bed so we can sort through them.” I explain and he nods. His nervous smile shows me that he is just as nervous as I am. I pull a couple of boxes over to the desk that Brendon seemed to use as a store all. Books, journals, pictures, an iPod, phone, and a large stack of papers make it to the box. I toss everything else.

We only get a fourth of the room finished before a picture of Carly and Bren cause me to breakdown. Cam quickly pulls me into his strong arms and whisks me out of the room.

“That’s enough for today.” Cam says tucking me into bed and kissing my forehead before turning to leave, but I quickly grab his hand.

“Cam, wait.” I plead. He turns back to me. “Don’t leave. I have nightmares.” I explain. He looks at me sympathetically, obviously weighing the option.

“I’ll stay until you fall asleep okay?” he says and I gladly accept the offer. I scoot over, waiting for him to take the space that I once occupied. Cam paused unsure how to act. Finally he lay down laying as close to the edge that he was practically falling off.

“Cam, it is okay to get closer. This bed isn’t very big.” I say allowing him to wrap his arms around me.

Cam’s scent surrounds me, filling me with an odd comfort. I wonder if Brendon would be angry for this. But surely he would want me to be happy, and this is the closest I have been to that in months. Would Brendon have forgiven Cam? And then it hit me. The only guy who knew what happened to my brother is holding me, and I have no idea what his side of the story is.

10:23 a.m.

I wake to find Cam’s empty, yet still warm spot on the bed. The smell of bacon fills the air causing me to wonder if it was merely a dream. I stumble down the stairs into the kitchen and surely enough; there stands Cam at the stove.

I quietly make my way across the room, listening to him hum a familiar tune. I pause before wrapping my arms around his waist, and taking in the deep scent of his cologne.

“Mayjay.” Cam says with a smile, before turning to me with a plate of pancakes. “Hungry?” He asks with a knowing smile.

“You stayed.” I say happily, and he nods.

“I couldn’t leave you.” He explains.

“I’m glad.” I admit.

After breakfast, Cam joins me on the couch for a movie. Like an idiot, I let him pick the movie.

“Cam! No!” I plead as the title flickers on the screen. “I’m scared of this movie.” I say making him chuckle.

“It’s okay baby. They can’t hurt you.” He says trying to suppress a full blown laugh. His arms wrap around me as we lay there and I know that I must ask him. I just didn’t know how, so I remain silent, wondering just what Mr. Cam Sanders had to say, and how in the world I am going to get it out of him.

(:
Okay..
so heres the deal. (:

I'm halfway through with sewing my new vest, and I got the idea, I WANT A PENPAL(: haha
Preferably someone who LOVES to talk (:

I'm 18 (: I would like to travel, I like working with my hands sewing & making stuff, I read & write stories, I can usually fix anything that breaks, I was saved when i was eight. I volunteer a lot of my time at church. And I LOVE vanilla milkshakes (:

so if you totally want to snail mail me..
E-mail me your address and a bit about you (:

e_kidd@live.com

Love in Christ,
Emily

MY NEW TOTE DESIGN

MY NEW SHIRT DESIGN

On Sale as of right now (:
lovethatmoves.bigcartel.com

GO ORDER (:

twenty-one things.

Quotelove: "Yeah but you said you were going that's why I'm going."  "And that's why I called her last night and told her I was sick, like a ninja."
"Darling, I don't know how to tell you this, there's a Chinese family in our bathroom."
Snacking on: Fruit Loops & Coke.
Watching: WWE Raw(:



    How are you all today (: "hmm? good? yes? hmm? yes?"(misadventures of flapjack). 
Sometimes life is hard, and it's not really a lot of fun. Really, it's filled with a lot of hard choices. And sometimes, our patience is tested by having to wait for things.
   I am not a patient person in the best and brightest of situations, so picture me trying to wait now. It's excruciating. Like no joke. To add to this lovely chaos, I am rather impulsive, so screwing up is very likely for me. 
   I totally have class tomorrow and I might just get out of class early (: because we totally have a test, but it should be pretty easy breezy lemon squeezy. (:
   So basically the purpose of this post is to list the 21 things i want to do before i turn twenty-one. (: haha It's great stuff I promise.


Twenty-One Things I Want to Do Before I Turn Twenty-One


One. Kiss [you] under the stars.
Two. Read 400 books. [57]
Three. Stop drinking pop. (:
Four. See the northern lights.
Five. Run a bookstore.
Six. Try alligator.
Seven. See the Pacific ocean.
Eight. go watch wwe raw(: live.
Nine. Stop letting people push me around.
Ten. Kiss [you] in the rain.
Eleven. Do something amazingly on impulse.
Twelve. dress up for halloween one more time.
Thirteen. Make a kickbutt birthday cake.
Fourteen. Make [you] dinner.
Fifteen. Let my hair grow out...
Sixteen. Love [you].
Seventeen. To make every ornament used on my christmas tree.
Eighteen. Watch the sun rise through a broken stained glass window.
Nineteen. Kiss [you] goodnight.
Twenty. To be me.
Twenty-One. move out.


Welp, folks. thats my top twentyone. (: 


Hope you have an amazing night.

the giant snakehunt.

Watching: In Search of the Giant Anaconda

Wonders: What could possess this guy to hold that snake?

quotelove: And I wear red lipstick and a black strapless dress. Like a
rockstar Cinderella.–-Natalie Lloyd-


Hello Out There

    I hope you are somewhere out there chilling in your jammies with a cup of hot tea, just like me. Because honestly this is great. Other than the snake part of my night. Snakes are weird and major creepy. And I know that this is mean, but I just wish that these retards that mess with these snakes would get bit. Okay so now I have to tell you about Wednesday. Here I am, exausted, trying to rack up a few precious hours of sleep before the directtv guy shows up. Of course mom wakes me up at 8 to wait on him.. he didnt get there until after 11. So Im upstairs trying to stay out of the guys way, when he comes upstairs and says..



Mr. Direct man: Emily.

And I was like.. um yeah?

Mr. Direct man: Do you have a pet snake?

Me: ... noooo.

Mr. Direct man: um, well, did you know you have a snake in your basement?

Me: Excuse me?

Mr. Direct man: you have a snake in your basement.

Me: One more time. (I could hear him.. I think.)

Mr. Direct man: there is a snake down there.

Me: OH MY... Jesus take the wheel.. umm.. no I sure didnt know that.

Mr. Direct man: oh well yeah you do. Hes a big one.

Me: oh Jesus help me. Well thanks for telling me.



    So, not knowing what to do, I call dad while Mr. Direct man goes outside to rig up some capturing mechanism. So I tell dad and he says that hell take care of it.. when he gets home. And the only thing he requests is to not tell mom under any circumstance. So all is well and good. He couldnt catch the snake, but it crawled under the bathtub where it couldnt hurt anyone. So here I am.. all okay and what not.. and then Mr. Direct man walks upstairs.



Mr. Direct man: Emily?

Me: yes?

Mr. Direct man: um you know that snake?

Me: um, yeah did it come back?

Mr. Direct man: maybe.

Me: maybe?

Mr. Direct man: well it was either that one or another one.

Me: (squeeking) another one?

Mr. Direct man: Yeah

Me: Where is it?

Mr. Direct man: in the ceiling over your closet.

Me: WHAT?!?!

Mr. Direct man: Oh yeah, I tried to get it, but I couldnt

Me: Oh MY GOSH! SPAWN OF SATAN. GET THEE HENCE.

Mr. Direct man: (looking at me weird) um.. I think you need to know something worse.

Me: What could be worse?

Mr. Direct man: Well there is a hole in your ceiling the size of its head, and well it can squeeze through anywhere its head can.

ME: ... anything else bearer of bad news?

Mr. Direct man: well...

Me: Yes?

Mr. Direct man: Its pretty fat.. theres a large possibility that it is pregnant.

Me: *o* ( that was my face. Literally)



    Good news though. He also said that my room was way too cold for the snake to even bother. But I swear, if that thing crawls its way into bed with me.. im moving out. HAHA (:

Just so everyone knows, I have to be up, showered, make-uped, beautiful, and on the road by 7:30am. And I was like... whoa nelly, hold the horse! So, its 2am and I think I'm getting up at 5:30. No biggie I don't need sleep. Haha. What in the world is going on tomorrow you might ask… My sister Katie is performing at cheerleading camp, and me and Nicole get the gift of going to pick her up at Tennessee Tech. You think that I am complaining, but I assure you that is not the case. Im excited. Like no joke. Basically for four reasons. 1. I love to travel. (like no kidding man. Just getting in the car and going somewhere makes my day. I couldnt be happier.) 2. One word. STARBUCKS! (yum) 3. Taco bell (: 4. I dont have to spend all day cleaning. (:

So basically other than the giant snake holing up in my ceiling, its been a great week and now Im prepared to start a brand new week.

AND I HAVE AWESOME NEWS. SOMEONE HAS TAKEN OVER CLEANING THE CHURCH UNTIL SEPTEMBER. (:

YAYNESS. I have Saturdays back now.



Anyways (: if you are looking for a good short story (: go here. (:
Natalie's Story (: Ashes READ IT! its good (:



Otherwise.. Ill see you next time (: Im going to bed.

Love like the Rain.

emily ann

the ultimate gift.

Qoutelove: Sometimes I’ve believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast. (Alice in wonderland.)

I never thought that I would live to make it to this day. It all seems so surreal. I mean, in seven hours.. I will be graduating. Yes, I’m writing this at 3am. DON’T JUDGE ME (: haha I can’t sleep. So I thought that I would recap my last four years.. Somehow they slipped by way too fast without me even knowing what was going on. But first, a few thoughts.

1)       Graduation is in 7 hours..

2)      No more school.. (haha summer classes start june 1)

3)      Graduation is in 7 hours.

4)      OH MY GOLLY GUM.. GRADUATION IS IN 7 hours.

5)      .. Was I supposed to iron my tassel lol it’s wrinkly.

6)      I wonder if my cake upstairs is going to be yummy.

7)      What in the sam heck am I going to wear to my party..

8)      I can’t wait to go to church on Sunday.

9)      ..i wonder if I’m going to get there in time for breakfast..

10)    OH NELLIE. I forgot to do the announcements.

FRESHMAN YEAR (:

Wow. Okay, honestly I was lucky. I didn’t have to spend my first few weeks of high school worrying that I would look like an idiot. I went to a Christian school. It totaled out at like 40 people… tops. Lol. But it did give me a different outlook on life so I do appreciate that. (: it was nice. I made friends with all kinds of different people, almost all of which I happened to like. I really loved getting to hear Dilbert Terry preach almost every morning which was nice. It made me smile. Thankfully nothing really embarrassing happened here lol. OH! And I went to the student convention in bowling green, ky. (: and I got 3^rd place in speech (: okay.. I’ll admit there was like 6 people lol but still (: haha I was a champion.. kinda.

         

          SOPHMORE YEAR

Whoa Nellie, hold the horse. SOMEHOW I landed myself into public high school, WITH REAL LIVE PUBLIC PEOPLE.. (random looking around)(yeah people think I’m a little off... haha oh well) which for me turned out to be the best. (: I liked all the people. This is year numero uno with Coach Burchy (: He loved me. Me and Catherine Hester became like uber close and even wrote a story for Coach Burchy about pirates and what not. Looking back, this year was super easy. I wish all of high school could have been like this, but sadly it was not. :( OH! This was also the 1^st time I tripped in the hallway spilling all of my books everywhere. (major embarrassing) It was very much a look at the klutz moment.

          JUNIOR YEAR

=year number dos of tripping in the hall, and coach burchy (: yayness. I drew pictures all over his bulletin board. It made him smile I know. OH! I did an amazing piñata for espanol 2 (: it was cool.. see... his name is hector.. the teacher had a cow.. I named her nellie (;

Oh this was also the year of TRITONES, school choir, winterjam, twilight on dvd, the “emo look”, walking into walls, the j-mark b-day cake (don’t ask), the dentist commercial, my friend mary moving away :(, my photography phase, my twilight obsession, TYLER DUNCAN (:, repainting my room to remind me of the ocean.. edward the dog (deceased), edward the fish (deceased), DORKY GLASSES, piano studded belts, and tri-hipper comics :) and 11th grade english with ms. brewster.

///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////SENIOR YEAR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

OH WOW! Senior year flew by. I tripped in the hall.. again. Smiled at coach burchy every day.. somehow made it through AP English with ms. brew. it was tough. FOr me, senior year was all about, 

decorating lockers, writing my name in the sand, chillin at the park with buddies, JUPITER (sept. 2, 2009), football homecoming senior huddle, ice cream & cake (the dance lol), starbucks doubleshots :), stained glass windows, football games, pouring rain, band section, (: happiness, CHEESESTICKS, hiking (:, face painting, 4 haircuts, CALLING GLORY (GREAT CHRISTIAN BAND), zebra nails, nc youth trip, BOWS, eyeliner, nights with tyler, teagan my puppy, prom with tyler (:, senior day, baccalaureate, bedazzling graduation hats (:, taking over 400 pictures (:, and most of all (: love. OH! and almost having to pay 67.99 for my government book.

WOW! i cant believe that sums up high school (: but i guess all good things must come to an end. 

ADVICE!!!
CHerish High school (:
Love like the rain
Dance with the stars.
Don't waste time looking back (:

The ultimate gift is the gift of love and family, and i have both (: 

Until later, 

Emily ann. (: 

*Like i promised... MY CAP (:

finally feeling sunlight.

Listening to: And Now My Lifesong Sings-Casting Crowns

Quotelove: “Today is your song. Everything that you’re doing.” Mark Hall

May 16, 2010

So here I am. Graduation is 12 days away… counting weekends. (: I just counted to make sure. Wow I feel incredibly dorky now. Oh well. (: I am kind of tired. I stayed up until 4:34 making my graduation cap magnificent. I still have 4 hours to go. (: but let me tell you… you’re going to love, but you sooo have to wait until my end of May post. This is making up for last month.

      Today all of the senior teens at church went to preston’s for lunch (: I feel incredibly loved. Like... I finally feel like I’m completely at home with all of the older youth. (: they feel like family. It was nice. Especially when you think that there’s the possibility that you may never see some of them again.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

finally feeling sunlight
----------------------------------

      The whole point of this blog revolves around an idea… which is kind of top secret* so… I promise to fill you in later, but it is going to be preciously beautiful (: Mostly the idea revolves around a song. (: and it’s kind of old but basically… it’s still beautiful (: so… it’s still new, you know.

Finally feeling sunlight is all about being lost, in the dark, cold, alone, blind in a sense to everything around you, and then suddenly that burden being lifted. Taken away, healed in a sense and suddenly you are brought to the light. And you feel the warm sunshine on your arms for the first time in a long time. Then this really funny feeling begins to spread throughout your whole body defrosting your heart and pumping the fresh, warm blood through the rest of your aching, frozen limbs. It makes you feel a bit fuzzy at first, but then you realize it makes you feel alive. Like a feely good feeling was rising from the very tips of your toes and slowly crawling to the top, creating its own sort of beautiful right in the middle of your heart.

And SUDDENLY something hits you like a stack of bricks… this is what it feels like to surrender, to let JESUS take every bit and part of your life and to make it all His again. To clean you and save you over and over again, and you realize the magnificent love that dwells inside of your heart now, and you can’t help but to smile, because you feel so amazing inside. And you know that no matter how bad things threaten to get again, you are safe from the storm, wrapped in the loving hands of the one who calmed the seas. Knowing this, you have to look around to check and see if anyone else has caught on to this beautiful chaos erupting inside of your heart, causing you to leak from every possible opening with the purest and holiest of lights, because at that very moment you became His all over again. And all the feelings you felt the first time are intensified and somehow completely brand new.

This is giving up to Him your lifesong. And now my blog flows all back together again, and looping right where it began with … Listening to. (:


* i just like saying stuff is top secret to make myself feel more important.. much like i'm in a james bond movie (: haha i know. i'm dorky. i'm sure the secrets not even that big of a deal.

Live Your LIFESoNG! (:

Forever Yours,

Emily Ann. (:

.morning's first light.

quotelove: “Although Geppetto soon realized that Pinocchio was still made out of wood, it mattered little to him.”
                              (Pinocchio, page 7.)


February 19, 2010

Looking out into the night sky, I can see the stars. They are blanketed so perfectly random across the night sky as if God flung a bucket of glitter across His black canvas. It’s a cold night, the ground still clinging firmly to the chill of winter. I can feel my body begin to grow cold, and just a tad bit wet, but none of this matters as I stare into infinity. Because tonight, as I lay out under the stars, I know I am safe. Inside = potential danger, and I’m not quite ready to surrender just yet. I decide to play it safe until I know I’m strong enough to walk back into the battlefield so I curl up in my blanket just a wee bit tighter and begin to pen these thoughts.

The twinkling dots fill the sky much like fireflies in the warm summer air. But summer holds no meaning to what I am about to say. I was once told by a wise old man that, “The church was never meant by God to be an art gallery, but a hospital instead.” It is a place for soul healing in the most extreme way. A place to come before the creator of the milky way, and remember all the reasons you loved Him in the first place. And this makes me frown, because it reminds me that the church often isn’t used for that so much anymore. The church has accidentally allowed a monster into it’s presence. It's ripping the church apart from the inside out. And suddenly the members are cutting each other down. And they slowly drop out one by one until all that is left is a dried up piece of nothing.

Today

Sometimes I wonder what I would think of myself now if I had failed and cut again. I was so close that night. The blade touched my skin at least three dozen times before I threw it across the room and ran outside. I could already see that beautiful flower so perfectly sketched into my leg. I was already ten steps farther than I wanted to go. I had an emergency plan, planned out step by step, but the problem with emergency plans is, you have to WANT to get out of the situation, and at the moment I didn’t. I wanted to bleed, and scar, and then I would have a reason to sit around and feel sorry for myself. I wanted the adrenaline rush that usually followed my stupidity. But luckily a bit of sense flooded my mind, and visions of the possible future ran over me like cool relief.

So, I found myself outside thinking about the stars. And I love living in little ol’ barely on the map winfield, for one reason only. The stars can be clearly seen at night. Where I live, everything is really flat and whatnot and there really isn't a lot of trees around, and it's just like this vast blackness for as far as you could want. And really the beauty of it all overwhelms you as you look into something that you quite don't understand. And as I think I notice that some of the stars twinkled just a bit more brightly than others, and it reminds me of a quote I read once,

Each of us is like a star. sometimes we shine with the rest. Sometimes we twinkle* alone and sometimes, when we least expect it, we make someone’s dreams come true.

And that leads me to wonder how many people are out there wishing on one of these lucky stars. And how many guardian angels God is sending to help with their wishes. Because one night a little over a year ago, I was one of those people wishing. Only the really cool thing is, God started to grant it before I wished it. Looking back, I can see God’s hand in my life at this point of time. When I look over at my best friend at break, and he’s trying to push me over* I remember this point in my life quite vividly. Because without knowing it, I wished for him.

                                                  :]
                                    
Tylr Duncan (aka dare, the best friend, my guardian angel, the one I share all my secrets with) :]
I never thought that I would ever find a friend that I could be around all the time and never get tired of, because all of my friends begin to get on my nerves at a certain point. (: It’s true, sometimes he can be a bit dorky (and he tends to go act all smartical when he knows that I don’t understand :]), but you have to realize that it’s what makes him special. He’s one of those people that can always put a smile on your face, even if you’re a million zillion miles away. Honestly, I’m glad that we got into a fight and quit talking, because now, we’re even closer (: haha and I’m pretty much sure that after all we’ve been through, we’re supposed to be amigos. Because basically, I’d be lost without him and he would basically be crazy without me (; He is most definitely going to be the one that I will be friends with for the rest of my life. :) So haha.. Basically I can’t describe how happy I am that he’s back in my life. I honestly have no earthly clue how I got through the last few months without being completely bored to death. Tylr basically keeps me inline, and he is one of the main reasons I have permanently put away my knife. He was also the first person I told. There is this really great thing about him, where I can talk to him about absolutely anything, and no matter what I say, I know he won‘t ever look at me funny because of it. He’s the one living person on the whole world that knows almost all of my secrets.

“Some people come into our lives and quickly go. Some stay for a while, leave footprints on out hearts, and we are never, ever the same.” (Flavia Weedn)

    So, with this last quote I leave you to ponder and reflect upon your life, look for that one person who you can't stand to be without, and never let them leave, because they are the one's that leave footprints that start just an inch deep but then begin to grow and branch out into the farthest corners of your heart. Because those are the ones that you will regret letting walk away.

ALL MY LOVE
Emily Ann

* haha anyway, so he likes to try to push me over because apppppparently i "walk like a drunken sailor" and whatnot and I have horrible balance issues.. Mean right (: lol

.scars.

Quotelove: “Erin collects seashells. There are hundreds if shell pieces washed up on the shore today, jagged as broken glass. The sea has handed us a mighty ransom for our company. I tell her just to pick the special one and then watch her eyes scrutinize the pile. Her tiny fingers lift one shell from the mix. I think it will be a sand dollar or one of those conch shells full of ocean- something beautiful and unique. Instead, she picks up broken pieces, tiny shell fragments with splashy colors and interrupted swirls.

“Why these?” I ask when she puts them in my hand.

“They’re special,” she replies.

“They’re broken,” I say. It comes out more like a question than a statement.

“What makes seashells special then?” she asks me.

And it makes me wonder. What does make a seashell special? Is it the size or shape or color? Or the part that’s missing? Or is it something else altogether?

“You do,” I finally decide. “When you love something, you make it special.”

“Cool,” she says. “I like the broken ones.”

(Paperdoll, pg. 53)

Hello loverlies (:

February has really done it’s best to throw me off guard. Like right off the bat, we got a week plus one day off school for snow. (: woo! Haha. Then I got on blogger and noticed that I hadn’t written anything in three weeks. *gasp* and then I looked at the date, and I remembered that valentines day was right around the corner *faint* haha. So it looks like that I’m going to be at home on a date with my pen and paper on that day. But I have a really special blog coming out of it. (:

So anyways, I was in government on Tuesday and the idea for this blog came to mind. I love it when I get new ideas. First it starts small, maybe with a title, or a phrase, or a sentence. It slowly blooms after that. The words begin to form sentences, and the sentences take root on the paper, spreading across, filling the space. Suddenly, the idea explodes, splattering like beautiful chaos, jumbling at points because my mind is so excited that it begins to run at 500 miles a hour, while my hand is poking along at 10.

So I got this idea. A title simply called scars. At the moment, I couldn’t give it the proper amount of attention because my government teacher was droning on and on about the types of government, blah, blah, blah. But later, when I was on the bus to my stupid business class*, I began to really think about it. There are so many ways to get scars, and so many stories explaining them. There are surgery scars, scars that tell stories of childhood, there are scars made by hate, scars left from loneliness, and then there are the intentional ones.

It is the intentional one I thought about. I’ve written about them so many times before, but this time, it feels different, because this time, it will not be told in the form of a story. I wonder how someone can turn something as dangerous as self injury into an art form. How someone can take something as ugly as scars, and make it appear beautiful on their legs and arms? How can skillfully steady hands create something so out of control? It is an alarming beauty, and a false stillness that pulls the blade along. But honestly, how can the artist’s hand falter when the devil himself is helping the chaos along?

These thoughts force me to think of myself. Scars cover my legs, all made by my own hand. I did not act out to defy my parents, nor did I do it for a show. If that had been the case, I would have chosen my arms, but instead my legs fell victim. It was so easy to hide, they were always covered anyway. The reason I cut was a desperate attempt to gain control in my life, but I couldn’t find the control because I was plugging into the wrong source. I wasn’t letting the Deliverer do His job. I have come to accept my scars. I used to find them ugly, another part of my body that was flawed, and I would get so mad because I knew that I had done it to myself. But now I see them as another way that I am beautifully unique. A physical reminder of the miracle Jesus preformed when He rescued me from myself.

In December I had a relapse. It was a word made up of seventeen cuts. It stands one inch tall, and four inches wide. It reads.. ALONE. It is the one scar that I still feel horrible for making. Because when I wrote it I was not alone. Jesus was right beside me, bleeding over an identical word carved into his leg. And I hate it. It’s big and ugly, and basically a slap in the face to everyone who loves me. I’ve basically just told my family, my “adopted sister” Courtney, my bestie tyler, all my other friends (who I love dearly), my mr. for-the-rest-of-my-life, and God that they weren’t good enough all in one little ten minute breakdown. And I remember that every single day, and I will for the rest of my life.

I then began to think of all the emotional scars that had left their permanent holes in my heart. Scars from when I lost my aunt Pam, and then two more when I lost my cousins Jennifer and Jasie way before their time. I received another one when I found out about my real dad, and how I wish and hope and pray for the day he tells me that he loves me. Several other scars fall beside them. Some are from the hurtful words I was called (for words are like a double edged sword). Others are from fear. Fears that maybe I might just lose someone I love dearly very soon. Like my papaw Jim, who I love extremely. I worry about him all the time. But then something amazing happens. Jesus comes in and fills all the little cracks in my heart; He patches all the little holes, and makes me feel at peace. There is a verse that I love to look at when I feel the pain of an emotional wound coming on.

1 Corinthians 10:13 “There hath no temptation taken you but such as is common to man: but God [is] faithful, who will not suffer you to be tempted above that ye are able; but will with the temptation also make a way to escape, that ye may be able to bear [it].”

I think that verse is so pretty, and I love how God is so merciful to only give us the life that we were able to handle with His help. It’s not always a cake walk. It sometimes is filled with a little pain, but just knowing that He loves me, and that He is always there for me makes me feel better.

When it comes to the end of the day, I am still broken, like the seashells in the quote. Unwanted by most, but adored by a certain few who have an eye for some hidden beauty or talent that I may possibly possess once the sand is washed away. Daily polished by God, and kept in line by His children. He makes me special because He loves me.



I have finally learned the truth, happiness is not something you achieve by age, or knowledge, or beauty. Not by things, or people, or success. The feeling cannot be bought, or sold, or traded. Happiness cannot be measured with a smile or a frown or even with laughter. It is not something that once you get there, you stay forever no matter what. Happiness is not a destination, but a way of travel. Being happy doesn’t mean that life is perfect, merely that you’re not willing to let life get the best of you at the moment. It is something that everyone searches for and chases after, but happiness is kind of like a shadow on a sunny day. The more you chase it, the further it moves away, but if you wait for that moment when the sun is at its peak, and you stand very still, suddenly your shadow will be underneath you. Happiness is sitting in the rain to watch football and having your best friend rub the rain from his jacket on your dry face. Happiness is all the little nights I spend with my lovely sister courtney duncan. Happiness is having friends that turn moments into memories that last forever. Happiness is found in hope, and childhood, and starbucks coffee. In wishing stars, and fairy tales, and dreams, and true love. It is found in the little things that make you smile. Happiness is love, and hope, and peace. Happiness is found in all the silly memories you make with your family. (like sitting in the parking lot of wendy's and laughing so hard that you almost choke on your french fries and pee your pants at the same time because your dad is singing some weird song at the top of his lungs.) (or even those insane road trips to the 127 sale (: where we never seem to buy anything, but we have such a good time together.)  Happiness is not the things in your life, but instead the joy from Jesus filling your heart. I can now make the statement that I, Emily Ann, am perfectly, and incandescently and irrevocably filled with Jesus, and therefore, I am happy (:

So my dears I leave you with this thought to ponder upon. (: and wish you the best of luck in standing on your shadow. (;


With all my love,
Emily Ann (:


* The stupid business class is the one Dwight Murphy talked my mom into making me take because "it's a great opportunity" which it would be, if I liked business at all. But I don't. I despise it. If I had a business, I'd burn it to the ground, and smile as I was being locked in the loony bin. haha. (;

sometimes starry-eyed princesses fall

 Inspired by: The King of Kings :)
*~*~*~*
listened to: prodigal & does anyone hear her- casting crowns; rescue me- crabb revival; she walked away & on my own & I need you to love me-barlow girl; back in his arms again- mark schultz; when she cries- britt nicole
*~*~*~*
Quote love <3 : (from an episode of extreme makeover: home edition.) Kassandra (an eight-year-old battling cancer, but all she asked for was help to paint the cancer wing at the children’s hospital she was treated in.)[talking about the beaded necklaces she made to make money for the cancer society.]:“The pink bead stands for love, and it’s on the top because love comes first.”
*~*~*~*
Okay so I have been dying to write this blog :) it has honestly been in my stack of ideas for about two years, but now He’s finally given me the go ahead to finish it. It always makes me cry just to think of this circumstance, but lets just say that every girl has wanted to be a princess. :)
*~*~*~*~

Right now she's laughing as she spins in circles around the room. A smile shines on her face, and my heart is at ease. She's happy for now, and that's all I can ask for.

Taking a closer look, I can see the scars. They cover her legs. Long, ugly scars that mar her beauty to the world, but to me she’s perfect. The world has taken her and made her their own, but she went too far. She lost control. They should have known, no one could have taken what they placed upon her. I cried helplessly as she hurt herself, and I watched the blood pouring from her wounds. It broke my heart; could she not see that she was still mine? They shunned her now, leaving her all alone, but a least it drove her home again. It drove her back to me. I grinned as I looked at her father. A large smile covered his majestic face as she looked back to Him. He’s exactly what she needed. After all, love comes first, then healing. My mind drifted painfully back to the day she ran away, which is coincidently where our story begins.

Once upon a time there lived a girl. She was beautiful, but the years of play had scarred her face and arms. No more was she the innocent baby she once had been. Her hands were black from the dirt of the playground. Her dress was reduced to shreds, the hem frayed, and what little part that remained intact was soiled, the color gone beyond recognition. Her jewelry was gone; most of it was traded for her next meal.

She sat alone on the swing set watching all of the other children with their parents protectively by their side. But she was alone. The desire to go home swelled inside of her, but what if He didn’t want her anymore? She had already messed up so many times. The morning light lit the sky up in purples and blues, her favorite colors. Still ashamed of who she was, she headed home.

Her father stood at the door waiting on her. He picked her up and looked her over before pulling her close into a hug. He sat her on the counter as he gently wiped all the black off, before sending her to the bathtub. But to her surprise, there was a fresh new gown hanging by the door for her to wear. It was beautiful, she could tell that her father had made it special. After her bath, the royal hairdresser fixed her hair, and even powdered her little nose. The princess ran down the stairs to show her father, who smiled proudly at his precious jewel. She looked angelic.

This is where she met me, and I knew she was mine. She was what I wanted, and she was beautiful. She had her little quirks, things she hated about herself, but they only made me love her more. She was special. I tried to advise her to stay out of trouble, but she didn’t listen all of the time, and it was me who carried her home, back to her father. He looked at her with a smile, welcomed her home, cleaned her up, and held a celebration for his returned daughter. And then we would be close again. She shared all of her secrets with me as we fell more and more in love.

Soon she quit talking to me at all. Her circle of friends changed dramatically. I was surprised to hear that she had ran away again, because this time she didn’t want me with her. I listened, waiting for her to say that she’d had enough, but she never did. I watched her fall into the blackness. I waited worried, frantically pacing the stone floor. I went to her father, begging Him to bring her home, but He only raised His hand to silence me. “She’s not ready yet. Don’t worry. It’s in her master plan.” He reminded me; it wasn’t what I was hoping to hear from Him. But I slumped into a chair as I saw the tears in His eyes. He was hurting too. Her activities appeared on the big screen in the throne room, and I couldn’t bear to watch. She was killing herself. All of her activities led to a grave-site, but she didn’t care.

The sky blackened and my tears fell like raindrops as I cried in agony. Blood flowed down her legs from wounds she made herself, but the pills had numbed her. She couldn’t feel the pain. I looked at the King in horror as the dragon appeared. This couldn’t be her master plan. He must have gotten it all wrong, but there the beast stood, just waiting to take her life. I looked back at her father, expecting Him to say stop, but His compassionate face had turned to stone. She whispered something, but to me she might as well have shouted it. “Rescue me.” It was all I needed, I jumped upon my trusty stead and raced to her side. Her beautiful gown was ragged, her skin bruised and scarred. The dragon was angered by my presence, and snorted fire in her direction, but I jumped between them just in time. A loud voice sounded in the deserted rubble of a once great castle. “Leave her be. She’s mine.” The dragon sent her a deadly glare, before rasping “Next time, you won’t be so lucky. I promise.” I carried her back to her father.

The large man looked her over. “I’m not worthy to be here. I just wanted to tell you that I’m sorry.” She said. Her eyes were cast downward in shame, but He raised her chin with one of His fingers. “I’m glad to have you home princess.” This was all it took, and she fell into His arms as she cried. He helped her wash up removing the blackness from her body. I watched as He touched each scrape and bruise instantly healing them. He stopped at her legs and a frown appeared on His face. “I won’t fix these,” he pointed to the scars. “You’ll have to learn that you are beautiful with them.” He continued on to her hair, first washing, then untangling, before finally fixing it. He kissed her forehead, and then clapped His hands. She watched in awe as a gown appeared before her. It was far better than those she had seen before. “Now,” He said with a smile, “Let us all gather and celebrate, because my beloved child has come home.”

Luke 15: 20-24

“And he arose, and came to his father. But when he was yet a great way off, his father saw him, and had compassion, and ran, and fell on his neck, and kissed him.

And the son said unto him, Father, I have sinned against heaven, and in thy sight, and am not worthy to be called thy son.

But the father said unto his servants, Bring forth the best robe, and put it on him; and put a ring on his hand, and shoes on his feet:

And bring hither the fatted calf, and kill it; and let us eat, and be merry:

For this my son was dead, and is alive again; he was lost, and is found, And they began to be merry.”
*~*~*~*

I didn’t plan on going the whole Luke 15 direction. That just happened. I just told my story. Like I said before, I’ve had this idea jammed in a notebook for like two years and suddenly God was like, Emily, do this now. :) This is the one I’ve always wanted to write, and so many songs inspired this piece, but I told God that it was His when I started, and I asked him to make it beautiful, and He did. When I write, there are times when I have like this complete out of body experience. This is when God temporarily mutes me, and takes over for just a little while. And everything that comes out is amazingly beautiful, because He is the Best Selling Author. That’s when the number one blogs begin to roll out. And I look at people with a smile, kindly thank them for their complement, and tell them that they need to thank God instead. (: Because the one who rigs up all the stars in the night sky, and the one who paints all the colors in the northern lights, is the same one who sat down and penned the words in my brain. The Master Electrician, My Abba Father, God. :)
In Awe :)
Emily Ann.