The Power Of Life

I had trouble sleeping that night. The peaceful, rhythmic breathing of my younger sister across the room could not calm me as I lay under the covers in the dark, listening for the heavy footsteps of an elderly man sneaking through the downstairs floor of my house. With one hand firmly choking Red Blankie, I reached with the other to turn the alarm clock on my bedstand toward me. The fluorescent red digits whispered 12:03 in the still, black room. Perhaps he will come soon.

I could feel the breeze skim through my hair as my loose shirt caught the brisk air behind me. This was my sanctuary, the feeling was bliss. I made my way home, bracing myself for the approaching argument I was about to have with my mother. That feeling of pleasure left my body as quickly as it arrived. I stepped into the front door, and closed it behind me as quietly as I could, maybe she wouldn't notice I was late home. But before I could even take the first few steps inside, I heard mum coming from the kitchen,

From somewhere in the stillness, she felt a soft breeze on her neck and heard a faint whisper in her ear “Lacey....” A trickle of fear ran down her spine as she gave a furtive glance around the room. She was alone, wasn’t she? Were there vagrants in the area? Afraid and needing to hear a human voice, she called out, “Hello? Is anyone here?”

After a few more minutes of waiting Anna decided to get out of bed and walk down to the food court to see if her father was there. After getting out of bed, Anna found a note taped to her father’s chair that she hadn’t seen before scripted in scribbly letters saying Based on your actions he might come back don’t tell anyone about this and he will come back unharmed. Anna hurriedly found the bag of her clothes that her mother had delivered overnight and pulled on a hot pink mini skirt and a white long sleeve crop top. After getting dressed Anna opened her door and stepped outside, there was no one anywhere to be seen. She continued to walk down the hall and there was still no noise and no one in sight. She walked straight to the elevator and went down to the first floor where the food court should be, but there was no one there either, the hospital had been abandoned and she was sure that the songbook and the object that played her melody the night before were somehow behind it all. She ran back up to her room as carefully as she could trying not to hurt her arm, and once she arrived at the door she grabbed the music book off the desk beside of her bed, tried to flush it down the toilet, and stuffed her cell phone in her bag of clothes that her mom had bought. She was about to pick up her bag when she heard a new melody right outside of her door. La, La, La, La, La, La. La, La, La, La, La. La, La, La, La, La. La, La, La, La, La, La, La. She wanted to see what was making the noise so she carefully opened her door and peeked through the opened crack. There nothing was there! She grabbed her bag of clothes and ran down the steps as quickly as she could but then she heard a voice behind her, “Aaaaannnnnnnnnnnaaaaaaa!!!!” the voice moaned “Aaaaannnnnnnnnnnaaaaaaa it isn’t safe at your house!!!!” said the voice. She spun around and saw a scrawny old man

“Mama, cover doors and windows. Everyone go to the bedroom, and put your masks on,” I directed, calmly. When I got to the bedroom, everyone was huddled around each other, with a white cloth on their face. Suddenly, the room became dark. You could hear the heavy breathing of everyone in the room, yet you couldn’t see anyone. The storm felt like it lasted for days, but only really lasted a few minutes. When I got back to the dining room table, I saw a letter on the table from the bank.

He did not want to scare her away. His footfalls are audible in the silent night, reaching out to her, each step bringing them closer together. Their turmoil of emotions rivals a hurricane, fear, fury and rage but most of all love shines in her eyes. Pure adoration is reflected in his. One foot forward, step by step, the space between them ceased to exist. Prowling forward, pushing her backwards into the building and onto the elevator, he corners her. Unnerved, she stands still in disbelief, doubting that he is really here. Staring at his face, his chiseled jaw, the definition in his shoulders, it seemed that wherever he went he had been worked hard. A calloused hand comes up and brushes a strand of hair from her face.

He was sitting on a worn grey chair, a steady beep filled the room, her cold hand laid in his. Her skin was pale, her eyes fluttered open - just for a second- then they closed again. The beeping starting get louder, it started filling the room, it was pounding in his ears as he yelled and he yelled for someone. Anybody. But nobody came, and then it was too late. She was gone.

It was late Tuesday, and I was up late reading an allegory when a muffled thud pulled me back to reality. I sat up still as a statue while I listened. the sound seemed to be coming from downstairs. I sprang out of bed and ran into the across the hallway.

I woke to shouting and banging on my door. I grabbed my pocket watch from the side of my bed; it read 4 o’clock. Who would be at my door this early in the morning? I thought. My body was dragged from the bed as I trudged along to my front door.

Some would say it; the weather was perfect for a bad decision. Gazing into the deep, cloudy waters of the treacherous river, she was reminded of a memory that she oh so badly wanted to be just a dream, she wished that all pain caused from that particular event would vanish. Shaking her head and furrowing her eyebrows she tried to shake the imprint that the episode had left on her. The river's waves collided against the banks, the change in the river's motions reflected her relationship with her husband – calm at times, but a disturbance in the calm water can cause a ripple effect. She thought walking would be a calm way to get away from the pent-up emotions she had been trying to run from, but everything in sight reminded her of her him; and that he was no longer hers. She walked with her shoulder slouched as she re-adjusted the baby in her frail, cold arms. Her watery eyes stared into the nothingness of the mist, still slowly advancing down the rocky path with no distinct destination in mind. Like a broken record, the images replayed in her mind. It felt like a nightmare she couldn’t escape, no matter how far she ran and no matter how hard she tried. There was no use, because the chant of their door that was slammed moments before he left, bounced off her eardrums and it began to become the only thing she could hear. Her

She sobbed inconsolably when they incapacitated him with a Taser, strapped his hands to his body and then hauled him into a white van. She had a huge, long row with mom after that. Mom shouldn’t have believed of what other people think about him, and the report that he had attacked his classmate until his classmate suffered a concussion should never have led to this. But now that she had already been in the same room with him, she didn’t even have a chance to say a word. Something seemed to burden his mind, making him so distant and far. How can I reach him? Adie thought. How much she wanted to hug him and talked to him about small things, like her feeling.

When she wakes to an empty cabin, draped in quilts and knitted blankets, her eyelids are swollen and crusted over, tongue heavy in her mouth. She barely has the strength to push herself up by her hands, let alone the strength to call out. Everything is dim, the shadows swaying and whispering strange, evil things in her ears.

I could hear her weeping from the other side of the door now. My mother’s loud crying was only interrupted by the broken speech she tried to spit out between her sobs. The dimly lit, cramped waiting room mixed the sounds of despair with some poor rendition of Chopin that blared intrusively from the perches of a pair of cheap speakers in the corner. On a short wooden table there sat a couple of magazines advertising the new happenings within the lives of people I did not care about. Next to that was one of those children’s play toys with colorful metal pathways for wooden shapes to glide across; bead mazes I would later learn that they were called. I crossed my legs in my chair and sighed as I let the sounds assault my eardrums. This was just

A sound, maybe a chainsaw, weed eater, lawn mower something familiar and annoying -- stirred Amelia from unconsciousness. But it wasn’t like waking up, rather it was slow, confusing, and dreamlike. She raised her hands to rub her eyes, and with a jolt of alarm realized simultaneously her hands were bound, as well as her ankles . Like a glass of water thrown in the face her eyes flew open, but her thinking couldn't catch up. She stared, dumbfounded, blinking slowly, trying to focus on her wrists to see what the problem was. She sensed she was outside but it was full dark and glancing up at the sky she saw nothing; although she knew there should be a moon. Pulling and twisting her arms in front of her, her brow furrowed with confusion, she

The adults always seemed to talk once I was across the room. As if the fifteen feet of distance between us inhibited my understanding of tone, and stress. When I saw Nana Sandy take the most of the stress, I would approach the adults and wait for my invitation to climb onto her armchair, into her lap; and it would always come. “Come here, Jovian,” she said with the softest smile on her face, arms held out. I would push myself off the ground, making it onto her lap, thanks to her support. Nana Sandy’s apartment was warm – not in temperature, but in feeling. Even when tension between the adults fell on my shoulders, there was no place I would rather be. The lighting was dim (to ease Nana Sandy’s headaches), and there was hardly anything typical to entertain a child with. But there were books, not academic books, but fun books. Two books in particular that she would read to me over and over, and I would never bore of. Nana Sandy had in her apartment a display of curious clown statuettes. I never asked why, but it made sense. People just have their things.