i actually finished a story, wow!

My finished story

My family had known him for a long time, but the night he asked me to marry him I felt I had only just began to know him. He had taken me to the garden and expressed his love for me. We had been married the following November. He was a construction worker; he worked for his father’s family business. We had our own house and we were happy. I was pregnant by December, well probably before that, but that’s when I found out. We celebrated a night out on the town, which at that time was a small and comfortable town. The baby was born early September, she was beautiful “just like you” he had told me but I said she looked like him. His last day at the Job he was crushed by a five ton piece of machinery, he was rushed to hospital but never made it. The police officer showed up on my door last Tuesday. I came to the door holding my newborn daughter. “Ma’am you husbands been killed.” I screamed silently for hours no comforting from family could save me from my sorrow. Now I stand holding my young daughter looking on as my husband’s coffin is lowered into the ground. I stand there listening to the condolences of my guests nodding, not hearing a word. I stand there as my family asks me if I’m alright, will I need someone to stay the night. No, I am sure. Now I stand here in my room, not our room, mine. When I enter our room my eye’s fall on the large empty bed, my empty bed, no longer our bed. His clothes still in the dresser, my dresser, it is no longer our dresser. Its strange now that tears fail me, the pain seems more intense. Strange how a broken heart actually feels broken, it weighs down in my chest seemingly cut in half, like the piece of my heart that made me whole was ripped out, and now all that’s left is the ugly, gnarled, dead part, my part.

I fall down weeping, my shoulders shaking with my sobs, then I feel arms reach out for me, they envelope me, warming me soothing me. I feel myself lifted high, soaring. Far above the heavens I come to a rest, there below me floats the earth, green and blue and magnificent. “Beautiful isn’t it?” not startled I don’t bother to look at who is talking to me. “Child, come, and I will make you beautiful.” When I do look I see The Lion of Judah, standing there arms reaching out for me, yet he does not take hold of me. “Come child, come to me.” I reach for his hand and grasp it hard. Peace steals gracefully through me, and strength fortifies my broken heart. Then with his other hand he reaches into me and restores my heart making me whole again. Then “Sleep my child, sleep. Be at peace.” My eyes grow heavier as my heart grows lighter, and I drift off into a dreamless sleep.

My eyes open to a dark room, my surroundings still registering. I turn my head and let out a gasp of joy, for there sleeping next to me is my husband. Now looking back, the past experiences held a dream like quality, all except the one about The Lion of Judah.