Previous Challenge Entry (Level 1 – Beginner)
Topic: The Pen is Mightier than the Sword (04/08/10)
TITLE: The power of small words
By pamela ewell
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He was only 25 years old and had went up on the corporate ladder quickly, and down faster. People admired him, his expertise in getting the right people together and getting the deals made. But within a matter of a couple of months he had lost everything, his job, his money, his fiance, and now he was ready to lose his life.
She had told him she could not stand the thought of being married to a "has been", a loser who blew his chance to be famous and rich over something as simple as being honest. They had asked him to lie to his stockholders to encourage him to push for a merger that would have cost the people who trusted him their life savings. He couldn't do it. These people reminded him of the people in his small home town. The neighbors that he had grown up with, the kind people who had helped his mom raise him when his dad died. So he couldn't do it. And now he had nothing left. No friends, no family, nothing. He had written a short simple suicide note and placed it in his pants pocket. He imagined that if they didn't find his body quickly it would be ruined due to the waves coming farther and farther up his pants legs. The cold wet sand felt good between his bare toes and reminded him of summers spent at the lake with his friends back home.
The sunlight made the blade of the knife sparkle in his hand. He had made sure it was good and sharp so that there would be no mistakes. A clean quick death is what he wanted to end his miserable life.He thought about how it hadn't always been this way and how he could have ended up here on this beach. The waves felt a little cold now as they were seeping up past his knees to the pockets in his pants. Almost time now. He went over every detail in his head. He had sold his belongings, sent the money to the local shelter. He had turned off all the utilities at his apartment and canceled his mail and paper. He had written the note that was now getting wet in his pocket. Oh, there was one more thing, he wanted to read a psalm before he died and say a prayer. He pulled out the small pocket Bible from his pocket. It was soaking wet and the pages were all stuck together. "Oh Great! I can't even do this right!" He looked up to the sky to say his last prayer, "God why am I a failure, why did all this happen, who is going to care, who is going to save me, I guess it doesnt matter cause after all who can even say they love me."
He put the knife to his throat and started to cut but his hand was shaking so. It must be the cold water he thought cause I must do this,afterall who cares. There is no one who loves me. He started to cry. The pain of the past few months pouring out. He found himself screaming out loud knowing no one could hear, "Who will say they love me!!" The Bible fell off his knee open on the sand. The pages were soaked and blurred, but as he picked it up two words written in red showed up totally clear, unblurred by the sand or the waves. They simply said, "I AM"
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