Previous Challenge Entry (Level 2 – Intermediate)
Topic: The Importance of Being Earnest (not about the play) (08/04/11)
TITLE: Past Mistakes
By V. Joy Ocasio
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If only I hadn’t been so stupid in my lifetime.
I would not have cheated that poor widow if I had known it would get me here.
At one point, I had it all. I was a ladies man. A respected man. A fun and carefree man. A rich man.
The son of a software genius, I had lived a very privileged life. Everything was handed to me on a silver platter with a silver spoon to boot.
I went to all the best schools and was handed the CEO position at my dad’s software company. My life was perfect. A beautiful woman was always on my arm and a wad of cash was always in my pocket. Then one day I was driving my sliver Mercedes home and this guy popped out of nowhere into the street.
Then it all went to Hell. Literally.
Ironically enough, I knew this man. His name was Larry. He was an underdog. He did paperwork. And brought us coffee. He handled all the clients and dealt with all the technical work. In truth, he would have made a better CEO than me.
He was a good man. A smart man. And a religious man. I know this because he never worked Sundays and because he had a whole bunch of God and Jesus stuff in his cubicle.
Oh, and I asked him about it. And then I called him an idiot for believing all that crap.
Wonder who’s laughing now? I’ll give you one hint. It’s not me.
“Oh, God,” I moan. “God, give me another chance. I’ll do it right this time.” I can almost see Larry now. He’s got it made. He’s in this wonderful, beautiful place. With light so bright it’s white. With golden sidewalks. With love and peace overflowing.
“God, let me go back. Let me warn my family! Let me tell them we were wrong, so they won’t end up here, in this detestable place.” I’m begging with all my heart. With all the earnestness I could have had in my life. I never understood the importance of being earnest before. Until now.
“God, please.” My voice breaks on the last word. I know that it’s useless. I know that God hears me. But I know He’s not going to do anything. It’s like I can hear him in my soul saying, “You had your shot. Your family and friends, I love them, but they must come to me on their own. You will never be able to convince them.”
“God,” I scream, “Save me!” I scream it louder and louder. Over and over. But I know it won’t do any good. Because in my heart I know.
It is too late for me.
What about you?
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