The Official Writing Challenge
BACK TO
CHALLENGE
MAIN
INSTRUCTIONS
how it works
submission rules
guidelines for
choosing a level
ENTRIES
submit your entry
read current entries
read past entries
challenge winners
Our Daily Devotional HERE
Place it on your site or
receive it daily by email.


TRUST JESUS TODAY

  • Share
  • how it works
  • Submit
Previous Challenge Entry (Level 3 - Advanced)
Topic: EERIE (07/28/16)
The boy walks into his 1st grade class and tucks himself into his desk. No one could know that the weight of his world is crushing him.

The classroom buzzes with a splendid ignorance, a blessed naivety reserved for kids under 8 years of age. Before the teacher arrives the children rabble and rouse and torment each other. But it's all in fun. There's no actual contempt amongst the grade school students.

But the boy is oblivious to the clamor. It's like he's not even there.

The night before as the boy is playing with his train set his parents had started to squabble. He's frozen with familiar fear as the argument escalates into verbal warfare. The boy composes himself and heads for his sister's bedroom. His eldest sister stands in the middle of the room with eyes squeezed shut and hands over her ears. His little sister is standing in her playpen sobbing quietly. The boy pulls her over the rails then turns and heads for the hallway. He takes his big sister's hand and all together they head for the linen closet that stands between the kitchen and the bathroom. He helps them slip inside and then pulls the door closed tight behind them.

The clash erupts and shouts are hissed with venom. An object slams against the wall and then hits the floor and shatters.

Mother's losing it.

The chaos becomes a physical battle, the tearing of clothes and the thumping of bodies against walls, cause the children to wince and gasp and tremble with fear.

The boy draws his sister's tight, a brothers instinct to distract and to protect his siblings. The harrowing combat that boils in the rooms outside the closet door, terrifies the kids beyond words.

But then the brother starts to sing albeit in the hush of a whisper.

"There's a hole in my bucket, dear Liza dear Liza. There's a hole in my bucket dear Liza, a hole. "

The girls join in growing louder with each stanza, as they drown out the rage of their parents with the words of a childhood song.

*******


I felt my pocket through my jeans and was relieved by the unmistakable shape of a Xanax tablet.
I didn't take it.
Xanax is a prescribed benzodiazepine, primarily dispensed to allay the onset of considerable anxiety.

I'd been seeing a Christian shrink, a psychologist that diagnosed and counselled based on Biblical tenets and Scripturally mandated steps to resolution.

She'd recommended that I return to my childhood home, a cringible inconvenience. As we neared the house trepidation welled up and threatened to overcome my mental well-being. The tiny football-shaped pill, went from pocket to mouth in a single motion. As the streets clicked down, the anxiety began to debilitate. When we pulled into the driveway I was in full-out crisis. Just the sight of the dilapidated house of horror flooded my state with an unearthly discomfort. I asked the therapist to give me a few minutes alone in the car. I took a succession of deep breaths while beginning to pray out loud. I beseeched The Lord for strength aware that true healing would benefit from this most excruciating step. When I climbed out of the car I effectively stepped into a sinister time warp, like a bombardment of troubling energy.

The house was vacant and on the market, thus its ease of accessibility. The floor plan jogged my memory, reacquainting me with my suppressed history. There'd been evil in this home but if nothing else, I knew my Bible and I knew my strength in Christ. Under my breath I commanded the oppressive spirits to flee in Jesus' name. I was quickly becoming emboldened by promises in the Word that affirmed the enemy's inability to penetrate the shield of Christ. In strength I walked straight ahead to the diminutive closet that was once my childhood sanctuary. Even as the door handle turned a tranquility overcame me like a bewildering calm. In a matter of seconds the house went from eerie to easy, an easiness of Spirit that only The Lord can impart.

*******

The house on Valley Rd was bull-dozed decades later. Somehow I'd gotten word and watched as it was crunched then demolished. But the building and it's grim past had long since been powerless over me. For the Saviour I'd embraced specialized in healing and restoration.
For He is the Divine thwarter of all things fearsome. The ultimate Indweller of life-lifting peace.
The opinions expressed by authors may not necessarily reflect the opinion of FaithWriters.com.
Accept Jesus as Your Lord and Savior Right Now - CLICK HERE
JOIN US at FaithWriters for Free. Grow as a Writer and Spread the Gospel.
This article has been read 435 times
Member Comments
Member
Date
Pat Small
08/06/16
This story was a blessing.There were a few words that seemed to be misused such as anxiety began to debilitate (maybe you meant diminish?) and healing would benefit (result?). I am not familiar with "cringible". I didn't look it up to see if it really is a word, although your meaning was perfectly clear with its use.