∞ CHOSEN TEASER ∞ Since Amazon is taking a little longer than expected, I thought Id share another teaser :) The throbbing pain in my side was nothing compared to the blood-soaked gash running down my right leg. As I ran, the humid air stung the ragged flesh and caused the blood to pour down into my shoe and saturate my sock even quicker. The numbness I held onto when it first happened faded, replaced with a burning sensation that quickly crawled up my leg and made my whole body hurt. I wouldn’t be able to run much farther. I had to find a place to sit down. As I rounded the seventh block from our house, I spotted the neighborhood playground and made a beeline for the jungle gym. I climbed the wooden ladder, crossed the chain bridge and climbed into a plastic tunnel. The world turned watery and numb as I allowed myself to cry. For several minutes, the pain in my leg trumped the pain inside my heart. That type of pain was worse than any physical pain. Physical pain healed eventually; it closed up and stopped bleeding. However, the emotional pain could bleed for years. No amount of band-aids could stop the hemorrhaging of a little girl’s heart. I almost got away from him. I almost slipped away unharmed, but I wasn’t quite fast enough. I pulled my leg back one second too late, and the knife dragged across my calf before I could make it out the back door and into the neighbor’s yard. That was when I started running. I couldn’t go back there right away. Not until he passed out. I’d give it an hour or so and then I could sneak back and crawl into bed. Having a plan helped me feel a little bit safer. It wasn’t much, but if all I had was a tiny thread to hold onto, I’d hold on as tightly as I could. I wiped my nose on my sleeve and decided to take a good look at my wound. The knife hadn’t gone in too far except where it started; the rest was just one long slash. I didn’t think I needed stitches, but it sure needed something. In a mountain of agony, I climbed out of the tunnel and scooted down the slide. I limped over to the communal water fountain and did my best to throw my leg on top of it and under the water pouring out; failing miserably and scraping the underside of my leg in the process. I turned on the water again and used my hand to collect and pour it over the gash. I gritted my teeth as the burning intensified from mildly hot to erupting volcano. “You’ll need to stop the bleeding,” an endearing voice instructed. I looked up into the eyes of a stunning woman with curly brown hair and bright blue eyes full of unmistakable kindness. As my eyes flitted back down I remembered thinking how familiar those eyes seemed, but I dismissed the thought just as quickly as it came. “Thanks,” I muttered and did my best to limp away as fast as possible. I didn’t get far. “What kind of knife was it?” she asked conversationally. I spun around and inspected her further with guarded eyes. She wore a simple, light yellow sundress and a beautiful yellow stone pendant around her neck. She waited for me to size her up and decide if I wanted to trust her. “The sharp ones are usually not as bad; they cut clean through. It’s those butter knives you have to watch out for.” She grinned and raised an eyebrow. Her casual confidence blew over me like a fresh breeze, and the mischief in her eyes reeled me in. She still gave me an odd feeling of déjà vu, although I couldn’t figure out why that would be. I had no reason to run into grown-ups as put together as she was. “I think it was a steak knife,” I admitted quietly. “It had ridges on it. It really hurt.” “I happen to have something we can wrap it up with, if you’d like?” she asked; holding up something white in her hand while still keeping her distance. She held out her hand and waited. I shifted to my working leg and considered my options. I could either let her help me or bleed to death. I figured bleeding to death wouldn’t be a very good way to go, so I took her hand. “Okay,” I agreed timidly. She allowed me to lean on her until we got to a wooden bench a couple yards away. I watched and tried not to cry out as she slowly wrapped my leg in a piece of fabric. She secured it with a pin and smiled warmly up at me. “There — all better.” Somehow her words made me feel safer. Or maybe it was the new experience of having someone take care of me. “What’s your name?” “Hannah,” I told her. “I’m Charlotte,” she said, and peered up at the sky thoughtfully. “Have you ever seen a live oak tree, Hannah?” “The ones with the crazy branches?” “Yes, those are the ones,” she chuckled. “When a live oak tree grows near the shore, the constant battering of the sand, wind and water start to take its toll. However, instead of the branches breaking, they adapt. They twist and turn; eventually growing into a completely unique and beautiful tree. Once fully grown, those twisted and mangled branches give that same tree the strength and courage to weather any storm.” “That’s kind of cool.” “So when things get bad and you start feeling all twisted inside, just remember that’s what will give you the strength and courage to weather any storm.” “But, what if I do break?” I asked quietly. “That won’t happen,” she said confidently. “How do you know?” “I have a very special talent for seeing who you truly are.” She winked at me and smiled widely. “And you, my dear, are plenty twisted. No storm could ever break you.” For the first time in a long time, I laughed and forgot about my pain…not only the pain in my leg, but the pain in my heart as well.
Posted on: Tue, 27 May 2014 14:46:01 +0000
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