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Topic: End (02/13/06)
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TITLE: The End is Near | Previous Challenge Entry
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02/14/06 -
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I hadn’t seen him in years and now life drained from his tired body. I was only seventeen years old - a rebeland 60's hippie. I hated the Establishment and anything that reeked of organization especially organized religion, that's what caused my relationship with Dad to go catapulting into hell.
I eventually made it to California, but the road was paved with dangerous twists and turns. I left home after
a heated argument, filling up my old Pinto with the few precious possessions I owned - some clothes, incense and my guitar.
Some people were kind to me along the way and gave me room and board for doing household chores. I wasn't always lucky though, once my car broke down on a dirt road outside of Denver. I was out of money and out of gas so I abandoned my car and strapped my possessions on my back. Then I started walking down the dusty road. The Heaver’s spotted me and pulled alongside to ask if I needed help - thus began my nightmare into hell.
I enjoyed living at the farm because the Heavers’ were parent-like and seemed to care about me. I got a job at a local diner and did chores around their house for room and board. Things were going so well for me I abandoned my idea of going to Hollywood to make it in the music business.
One chilling night my luck changed. The Heaver's took a trip to Denver to visit Charlie’s brother, so I had the house to myself. I came home from work bone tired and opted to take a bath and turn in early. While I was bathing I heard a noise like a door rattling, but thought it was the wind. Then I remember being tied up and thrown into the cellar. He asked for the Heavers and explained that he was their son. I remember Marie Heaver telling me her son was in prison for raping a girl and she was praying for him.
What happened next was a blur. I do recall that Tom repeatedly told me if I said anything about this he’d kill me. I wanted my father. I don't know why, but I needed him. I looked up at the moon shining through the cellar window and whispered under my breath that poem, "I see the moon and the moon sees me. God bless the moon and God bless me."
It was early morning when I regained conscientiousness. I tried to lift myself out of my filth then I changed my clothes and ran as far away as I could from the Heaver’s home. I lost more than my dignity that day - I lost the only family that truly loved me.
I swore that day, to God, as I walked away from the Heaver's place I'd never deny Him again if He'd only help me find my way.
The years passed. I married a God-fearing man and taught music lessons to local school children. I believe now that my husband asking me to accompany him to Boston was Godly intervention.
Visiting familiar places jogged my childhood memories and the father I left behind, so I decided to find him and I did - lying in a hospital bed dying.
He was in a coma, but I needed to let him know I was okay. I reached for his hand and stroked his hair as he labored for every breath. "Father, it's Abby", I said. "Open your eyes. I want you to know I'm a Christian now."
Tears flooded my face to the point it blurred my vision. A sweet fragrance filled the room and with it came a peace I cannot describe. Then I heard that same inner voice from the past - it said, "I forgive you."
A nurse entered the room, she said "Mrs. Jessen, it's finally the end. He's at peace now." I kissed him and told him that someday I looked forward to seeing him in Heaven – until then, I will hold him close to my heart.
Note: This is a story of fiction weaved with fictitious characters.
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