Monday, November 16, 2015

Fighting for the Vision pt. 2
This is a mini book representing one of the tragic moments that I had to experience back in October. My desire is that this book is used to heal me while healing others.
What do you do when the veil over your life is so dark and the weight of the world is upon you?
How do you begin to see light (pursuing your dreams and goals)? Keep reading and I will let you know.
They had placed me in the car and I was utterly frantic and the more they drove the more my heart ripped out of my chest. What were they making me go see and why couldn’t I just have my dad. If I could just have my dad then everything would be alright. I didn’t need to go see him in the hospital, to me, he wasn’t dead and they would soon learn that nothing was going to convince me otherwise.

As we went down the road I wanted to open the car door and run down the street. I knew he was going to come back to me. God wouldn’t allow him to leave me. It had to be a lie. I wanted my dad, now. I went back into being a child in search for her parent when he or she is lost. I felt uprooted from what I knew my life to be. I felt sick. I just wanted to see his face, to hold him even if it was just for one last time. I needed my dad, but the answer to when I would see his face and hold him again would turn into the longest wait of my life.

We drove down the dark highway and all I could think of was my book but at the time I didn’t know how it was connected but I knew it was similar. I had killed London’s father in the book but I didn’t remember how, but the agony can’t be described the way I felt after hearing the news. I felt like knives were piercing my flesh travelling deep within the wound of darkness and ultimate despair. I felt alone and just wanted to rock myself to sleep but I wanted my dad. I needed him and I wasn’t ready to process that he wasn’t coming back. I wasn’t ready to believe anything.

We arrived at the hospital and when I saw my dad’s car, oh hope reigned over me. I just needed to believe he was in there alive and well. They tried to get me out of the car but I didn’t want to get out. I kept repeating I didn’t want to go. I cried uncontrollably and I was in severe pain. I had lost it. I wanted to go home. People came trying to get me out but I didn’t want too. I didn’t know why I refused. What was I trying to protect myself from that I wasn’t aware of?
not my image

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