Previous Challenge Entry (Level 3 - Advanced)
Topic: ANGELS WATCHING OVER ME (don’t write about the song) (06/04/15)
- TITLE: The Troubled Teenager
By alan kane
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What a way to spend my eighteenth birthday.
This is my second day sleeping rough in the great city of New Hebrides, population 6,000. Unfortunately, it's not the island of the same name. If only! That south pacific island would be very welcome.
It all started so well when I arrived a week ago. I booked into a hostel for my long-awaited holiday, before I start University, only for my belongings to be stolen. The police were no help, blaming the theft on the 40,000 festival crowd.
So here I sit; no money, no clothes and worst of all, no tickets to the festival. I should’ve been camping out at the festival, but my tent was also stolen. Unfortunately, with no identification, it was difficult for my friends to forward me any money. Although I could contact my folks for help I’m kind of afraid too. The last time I saw them, we had a major row about the dangers of the sins of these "worldly pursuits." It's only a massive music festival! What’s their problem? Unfortunately, I hurt them with my rebuttal, stormed out of the house and haven’t called them since. This is the first time I have been away from home on my own and I’m determined to prove I can stand on my own feet. Why do parents have to so over protective?
So here I sleep. My folks would have a coronary if they saw me now. I would never have guessed a week ago I would be sleeping rough in a cemetery. My parents probably thought I’d be smoking weed, but all the plants I can see are green, smell of earth and were recently mowed. Thankfully, whoever stole my belongings left my sleeping bag and I have been able to obtain/cobble some plastic sheeting, so it’s really not too uncomfortable. I am also near enough to the festival to hear most of the acts, if not see them.
Blast it!, A drizzle ! The weather forecasters have got it wrong, yet again.
Looking up to the sky, I fear the heavens might actually open. Scanning around for somewhere dryer, I venture deeper into the cemetery. For such a small city they do have a lot of dead people. Thanking the great citizens for making an ornate shelter, I curl up and try and stay dry and warm. Maybe it might actually be time to call my parents and eat humble pie.
I still have about $18 in change, so good for food for a day or two, but not enough for anywhere to sleep with lowest price being $35 a night and that was sharing a room with four others.
I wonder if my parents will forgive me for my foray into this evil world of sin or for my unfair outburst at them. Strange how hardship makes you re-focus your priorities.
I have always found it strange how parents and children do not see eye-to-eye on many areas. You would think that being from the same DNA would mean you would share many of the same interests. I used to, with my Dad, but as he got older he seems to have changed. Or, have I?
I think this music festival is truly over, the rain has just turned into a thunder storm. So relieved to have found this shelter from the storm.
O my! I just saw an illuminated face of an angel, no more than eight feet from me. I want my Mummy! I catch myself on. Grow up, it's only a statue.
The storm increases its ferocity. This is not a night to be outside.
Bang! My ears pop.
Crash! The ground around me shakes. Please God, protect me. I curl up deep in the corner and eventually fall asleep.
The next morning I wake to a clear sky and birds singing. As I climb out of my cocoon, I survey the destruction caused by the storm.
Strange… an uprooted tree is being held up by the statue of the angel I saw last night.
Thank you, Lord! If this angel had not been there, that tree would have fallen onto of my shelter!
“Operator... Do you accept a reverse charge call from your son?”
“Dad, I am sorry for disobeying you can you come and get me... Please!”
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