It was such a peculiar day for everyone living in the town of Birmingham. Despite the unusual dark clouds, not only physically but also mentally inside the brain of every citizen, human nature called them to accept the abnormal feeling of the air. Neighbors stepped out of her houses to take in the grey look that had been set upon their usually bright neighborhood. The trees seemed to drop their leaves a little lower, the grass had lost it's happy green color, doors were shut, and only the occasional sound of any evidence of human life was heard. Nara's mood was no different than that of the town. She pulled into the driveway of her newly owned house and observed the white siding that had remnants of dirt and grime. She mentally added power washing to her moving in to-do list. She walked up the steep steps of her raised house and came up to see that the door was open. It was not only open but was falling off of its hinges. A disgusted look rang across her face as she felt a feeling of discomfort in her gut. She then slowly walked around the house as someone does when they are shopping. She was ready for anything daunting to lunge at her. Then, in a moment of complete and utter silence, she heard a small crack behind her. She thought to herself "Oh, the floor may just need a fixing." So she added that to her moving in to-do list.
"Hi" a small voice said. That must've been just her imagination. "There is no way there could be someone else in here with me!" She thought to herself. She heard a crack in the old and dusty floorboards once more. She turned around to face her one and only fear at the moment, and she couldn't believe to her eyes what she was seeing. A small child dressed in ugly dark green corduroy pants, a once nice (but now torn) faded blue shirt, and shoes that seemed to be two sizes too small. The child was a boy and his face was covered in soot. His eyes were green, they held a sense of nostalgia, missing what he once had but lost it to an unseen, unfortunate event. Nara became empathetic but kept her distance from the lost boy. No words were exchanged for quite some time until the boy asked, "What is your name?" Nara was taken aback by the somewhat personal question but trusted the boy and told him. "Nara." The boy repeated over and over. "Nara. Na-ra." Her name rolled of his pink colored lips in such a personal manner that Nara wanted to stop it. To put his name with his face Nara felt it was only fair to learn the lost boys name as well. "Peter" he replied with great confidence, puffing out his chest. Nara studied the boys round face, his pink nose that matched perfectly with his pink colored lips. His eyes were a beautiful green color. If she looked close enough, Nara found that they told a story. Great pain and longing hid behind such young eyes. Nara felt that it was wrong for Peter to feel that way. She decided that his name went perfectly with him and she would keep it that way. It was Naras turn to ask a personal question. "Where are your parents Peter?" Peter caught his breath and the pain in his eyes was more evident now. "They are not here right now, but they will be back" he said falsely. Nara could see right through young Peter and pointed out that young boys are taught not to fib and he should not lie to a lady he had just met. She felt bad for criticizing Peters actions, for she did not know of his past. She felt like asking would cross an invisible boundary so she just kneeled to get to his eye level. By this time she had moved closer and felt more comfortable with the boy. "How long have your parents been gone Peter?" She used his name in order for him to become more comfortable with her. He paused and looked her straight in the eyes and then away at the brown, rotting floor. "I don't know, I stopped counting the days" he replied and the longing that she saw in his eyes now appeared in his small voice. A small tear appeared in Peters eye and before he could, Nara took her thumb and wiped away the tear as it streaked down his face.
Peter also observed Naras face. She was young, but few wrinkles showed that she knew much more than Peter. He could see the compassion in her eyes that she had for Peter. She not only cared for Peter but she cared for other people too. It was her specialty, he guessed. After Peter had built up trust in Nara, he decided to no longer lie, and he told her everything.
When Nara heard what Peter had to say once he confided in her, she felt an instant connection. Her and the boy were no longer strangers, they were more than that, more than friends. Nara decided that she could not stay in her house that night, and neither could Peter. When the peculiar feeling of the day had suspiciously disappeared, the citizens of the town opened their doors to the recently discovered lost boy, and the new stranger.
This story could take so many more paths, but it would be better to end on a nice note, one like Nara was hoping the day would end on. Peter now belonged to Nara. She became more known around town. She was beloved by many residents of the town. Not only because of her caring personality, but because of what she did with it. She helped many people of the town of Birmingham. They came to her with their problems and she talked with them for however long they liked. They confided in her just as Peter had done her that first night there. Nara met a lovely man and he became happily wedded to her. Peter was elated to have a father and mother once again. The pain of his past was still there, but Nara was always there for him. After some time, peculiar days were no longer existent. The town became brighter and happier. The gray clouds turned into white, cotton ball-like clouds. Kids like Peter would lay out on the green grass as it softly tickled the back of their legs and the bottoms of their feet when they would play. They would find the clouds that looked like bunnies and giggle at the thought of it. Nara and her lovely husband would sit out and watch the beautiful sight. Sadly, Nara had to move away, for her work was done. The town stayed happy and thankful for her. They would always remember the young Nara that appeared on that one peculiar day. She drove away with her lovely husband and Peter in the back. Wrinkles appeared on everyone's faces, but this time, from the smiles that they never expected to fade away.
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23 comments
Continuation of the squished-margin thread. Your message first, then my response to it. ----- Aw man, I’m sorry that the painkillers don’t block the pain as much as you’d like them too. I’m also very sorry about your father. Cancer really is horrible and I haven’t experienced it up close before but I know how much it can affect someone, especially their close family. My friend's mom died last year from cancer and it was hard for everyone. It’s good that your father doesn’t suffer from that pain anymore. He’s enjoying heaven and the people...
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No problem, glad I could be of help :) I definitely know what you mean. I’m also glad that my grandfather doesn’t suffer anymore but I also wish he didn’t have to go so soon. I’m thankful for the years that he had, though. Hopefully the pain never keeps you from your writing for too long! Hm...400 words a day for a year. That doesn’t sound too bad. Last summer, when I attempted writing a book, I tried to write a thousand words a day. I succeeded for a while but eventually, it became too much and I realized writing that much a day is prob...
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That's what real friends are for: no matter what, they support each other through thick and thin. In my case, I wish I could've spent more time with my late father. Those last nine months (September 2006 to May 2007) weren't always the happiest, but the happy times we shared were wonderful. It was like recovering the twenty years since he and my mother separated and got divorced, and then condensing those twenty years into nine months. Unfortunately, the pain *has* taken some of my writing time away, but if it ultimately helps the pain'...
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Definitely. If you don’t have friends that don’t or will not support you, then it’s probably not going to be a very healthy relationship when even a little bit of pressure is put onto it. I’m sorry you didn’t get as much time as you wanted with your late father. He sounds like he was a very nice guy and definitely deserved some more time here with you. At least you still have the happy times to look back on and cherish. I love looking back and remembering my Papaw Jigs or my Papaw Freddie. Hopefully one day, you’ll get to see your father a...
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Whew. I don't know whose messages are getting longer, yours or mine. Both, I guess. (This is *not* a complaint. Simply an observation.) ----- I figure that if I've earned my way into heaven (instead of just to purgatory), then, yes, absolutely, I hope to be with the people there. But if I end up in purgatory instead, then maybe that's a place where I can help people as best I can. I don't see the Afterlife as an extended vacation. I see it as another place where I can teach, learn, share, etc. Kind of like going from high school to...
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I know, they are getting long! I don't mind it either though because I'm currently in an OSHA certification class. I've finished the lesson but I have to wait another 30 minutes to take the test. It really is getting on my nerves. The afterlife has always been something that's weird to think about. Many people believe different things about it and I don't think anyone has a similar picture of what it's going to be like. Obviously, Christians like me believe that there is a heaven and there is a hell. That's all that I believe there is. But ...
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Happy endings: :) :) :) You did a great job!
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Thanks!
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You're welcome!
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Wow! This was a really great story and I am happy that it had a happy ending.
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Thanks! Glad the bad grammar didn't affect how much you liked it;)
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THIS IS SO GOOD
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Thank You!!;)
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