Short Stories
Walking with her two children proved much harder than she had hoped at the beginning of her trip. As she panted in a wooded thatch, she recalled her own strength at the beginning of her tortuous trip. She remembered the exact moment she fled on her own, instead of with her tribe. Men of colorless skin killed her husband and burned her home. Desperate to survive, she ran blindly into the forest she played in as a child. With one baby in her arm and another on her hip, she jumped over fallen trees and quickly splashed through the same creek she bathed and played in her entire life.
As she fled, she desperately tried to recall any place she could hide from the strange and violent man who pursued her. Running without hesitation she sprinted as fast as her feet could carry her. She recalled the sting of flailing past branches and hurdled bushes. She could feel the pounding of his horse’s hooves as her villainous attacker pursued her into the woods. She did not bother to look back….she feared the time and energy to look back would cost her one of the lives she ran to save.
She was there in her mind. Glancing to right she discovered a thicket of briars and blackberry bramble. She dove into the thicket and her little boy cried out in pain as they landed in the thick blanket of stickers and thorns. Desperate, she shoved his head into her stomach to muffle his complaints and pulled the thorny bushes over the top of her and her children. In an effort to quell the cries of her infant, she ripped her top and shoved a breast in the child’s mouth. There she sat; motionless…trying not to breath …while praying her child could catch his breath after being stifled in the pit of her soft abdomen. The child had stopped crying and lay motionless in her lap as she sat still. Very, very still she sat as she hid in the heinous foliage. Every branch touching her skin pricked painfully and drew blood. As she sat motionless, she watched tiny streams of blood roll down her arms, and progressed down the broken twigs she sat upon. The pain; like a thousand stinging ants, but she dared not move or cry out in pain. Convinced of mortal peril, she did not risk being discovered, especially for the sake of her children.
The horseman who pursued her was just a few feet from the hellish blanket of thorns she chose to hide herself. His steed danced and pawed as the rider pulled the reins to try to quiet him for a moment. She could hear the panting breath of the mammoth animal carrying her would be killer.
SWOOOF!
SWOOOF!
Just over the briars, she could see the horse’s breath in the morning air. Steam rolled off the animal and its rider. The man, sat straight up in the seat of his saddle; peering into the wilderness for any clue leading the direction of his prey. He looked…and intently listened…nothing but the screams and cries of children and women being beaten and shot in the distance. And the smell of burning tents and flesh. No indication a woman ran this way with her children. He sat for what seemed like an eternity. Listening with the keen ear of a hungry wolf; but in vain, for she lay quietly nursing her infant just behind him. Refusing even a breath for fear he would discover her.
The memory was still fresh and bitter. Nahomar stood in a small thicket, remembering all she had been through to save herself and her children, but she feared it would all be for nothing. The open wounds on her legs had become infected and swollen. She had seen these injuries before in the warriors from her village. They usually died soon after the greenish-blue tint of her skin. She was terrified to die and leave her children defenseless. Her bare feet could not take the punishment of running and walking for another day. She had reached the end of her bravery.
No shelter during her journey, so her body shielded her children from the elements. She was tired and sick. The fever from her gangrenous wounds blurred her vision and she had not the strength to run if her attacker would return for her. She knew she had to do something or she and her children would die.
As she surveyed the landscape she saw a wagon near the river. Her eyes were failing her…she could not tell who the people around the wagon were. She hoped her people had stolen a wagon and made a faster pace. Possibly, she was just about to join up with them. She prayed she could find some of her people to help her. Once she was sure, she had full intention of calling to them. The elder women would know what to do to help her…if it was not too late. If she were to die, the elder women would care for her children. It was the custom of her tribe.
Since her eyes would not help her, she listened to see if she could hear and understand the language, she spoke as a child. It was hard to understand, but it was singing. It was singing! Quite possibly, it could be them! The elder women made a habit of singing.
She was so tired; it took all of her energy to quietly move closer. The singing grew louder. But it was just one woman singing. She had a beautiful voice, but to Nahomar’s disappointment, she could not understand any words indicating her people. These were strange words…she didn’t understand them at all.
Too tired to return to her previous, safe vantage point in the thicket, she knelt down behind a boulder to get a better view of the singing woman, safely hidden. The singing woman’s face, ghostly pale; as the evil horseman who chased her into the woods six days earlier. But something was different about her…she sang a beautiful song. Her voice was as beautiful as Nahomar’s mother. Although she couldn’t understand the words, Nahomar remembered her mother’s lullabies were the same tones and pitches.
The woman was bathing in the river and Nahomar could not see a man anywhere around. The singing abruptly halted and the woman turned toward the wagon. Fear struck Nahomar as she heard a baby cry. Frantically, she looked down at her sleeping child, and sighed relief. Her position would not be found out.
The singing woman had a child….it was her child crying. Nahomar watched as the woman stood naked at the edge of the river and soothed her crying child. The blonde, curly hair of the crying baby was stranger than anything Nahomar had ever seen. She had seen albino fox and deer, but never such a pale child. She had never seen anyone who looked like the evil ghosts who killed her husband and father a few days ago. She just wasn’t sure if they were from the same tribe as the murderous ghost men; or a different tribe. So she watched quietly, hoping her fever would subside…she felt her own chest heaving with each attempt to breath.
“Oh! There is my lovely wife and son! How are you this beautiful day?” A man’s voice shot through the peaceful afternoon silence. His Scottish accent struck Nahomar as almost funny, but she was too ill to smile and too scared to giggle. She sat quiet and watched the odd family as they reunited. It gave her a little peace to see the ghost man was a hunter. He was returning to his family with a rabbit in one hand and fish in the other. Nahomar marveled; he was such a prosperous hunter. He reminded her of her husband and struck a chord of sadness in her heart. Her husband loved her insanely and she never hungered or wanted for anything. He was a bountiful provider and she missed him profoundly.
Her oldest son squirmed to get to the water, but she held him firmly and hissed in disapproval. Loyal to his mother’s will, he quietly sat next to her and watched from behind the large rock.
Nahomar marveled at the comfort of the family she watched. They did not seem to be afraid at all. They were peacefully enjoying the day by the river. The ghost man held his child while the mother got dressed and began preparing the meal at the fire. Nahomar’s husband rarely took such tender care of the children. This man must be kind hearted, she thought to herself. She was amazed at the possibility a man could be a good provider and kind hearted at the same time…not so with her husband nor father.
As the smell of the cooking fish wafted over to her rocky vantage, her child began to cry. She tugged him disapprovingly and he quieted down. The young boy pulled at his belly to quiet the grumbling. He was hungry. She was not. The fever and pain had taken her appetite. She was only able to sip a little water the past few days. She had no energy to catch any meat, so her child had to survive on berries and what little milk she had left in her starving body. The infant was certainly taking all the nourishment she could produce. Nahomar was desperate.
Her fever began to overtake her. Her vision swirled as she came to the threshold of fainting. She reasoned she would probably die, so she did the one thing she could to try to give her children a fighting chance. She waited for opportunity to present itself.
“Let me show you something while the fish are cooling!” The woman beckoned her husband as she pointed around a thick patch of bushes. The man got up and took his child with him. The family walked out of sight and Nahomar took her chance.
Quickly, she grabbed her son and baby and Nahomar used every bit of her strength to hobble over to the wagon. As she pulled back the sheet covering she noticed a bed inside the wagon. She tossed her son into the back of the wagon and placed her infant baby on the bed next to him. Sssshhhh! She barked sharply at her oldest son as he attempted to get out of the wagon. She gave him a glare indicating he should not attempt to make the slightest move. That glare had become a staple the last few days. He looked at her innocently as she let the sheet fall enclosing the wagon bedroom.
Nahomar ran to the fire and grabbed a fish, moving swift and staying low so not to get caught. If her child began to worry, he would cry and she would be found stealing the ghost man’s food. She moved as fast as her feet would carry her. Returning to the wagon, she pulled back the sheet and handed the toddler a hot piece of grilled fish. The little boy went right to work; struggling to bite the hot fish and chewing like a rabid wolf. Her heart broke; he was starving. Nahomar briefly took in her children’s images. For the first time in days, they were peaceful and comfortable. The infant slept as her oldest attended to a delicious piece of fish. Neither acknowledged her gentle kiss before the sheet fell, blocking view.
Knowing the fish would keep her little boy occupied, Nahomar ran back toward the wooded thicket. She had no energy left to run, so she walked, then limped to the edge of the woods and collapsed. She could hear the muffled voices of the ghost family as they found her children in the back of their wagon. Their voices were kind; she gave up her will, and trusted them to care for her children, as the death angel came to walk her to heaven without them.
PLEASE ENCOURAGE AUTHOR BELOW LEAVE COMMENT ON ARTICLE
Reader Count & Comments
Date
The opinions expressed by authors do not necessarily reflect the opinion of FaithWriters.com. This is especially true with articles that
deal with personal healthcare and prophecy. We encourage the reader to make their own decision in consultation with God, His Word, and others as needed.
This article has been read 1125 times < Previous | Next >
Read more articles by Stacy Jamison or search for other articles by topic below.
This article has been read 1125 times < Previous | Next >
Search for articles on: (e.g. creation; holiness etc.)
Read more by clicking on a link:Free Reprints
Main Site Articles
Most Read Articles
Highly Acclaimed Challenge Articles.
New Release Christian Books for Free for a Simple Review.
NEW - Surprise Me With an Article - Click here for a random URL
God is Not Against You - He Came on an All Out Rescue Mission to Save You
...in Christ God was reconciling the world to himself, not counting their trespasses against them... 2 Cor 5:19
Therefore, my friends, I want you to know that through Jesus the forgiveness of sins is proclaimed to you. Acts 13:38
LEARN & TRUST JESUS HERE
FaithWriters offers Christian reading material for Christian readers. We offer Christian articles, Christian fiction, Christian non-fiction, Christian Bible studies, Christian poems, Christian articles for sale, free use Christian articles, Christian living articles, New Covenant Christian Bible Studies, Christian magazine articles and new Christian articles. We write for Jesus about God, the Bible, salvation, prayer and the word of God.