Strong Enough (2)

Sure enough, the next time I woke up, I was still not sure what time it was, two people burst into to my room and held my arms behind my back. When they did that, I screamed with the pain. After i screamed, they held just a tiny bit looser, so my mind was not too fogged with pain. Their boss came in, and just stared at me. "Well, Sarah O'Malley, I didn't expect you to survive being shot four times, but since you did, we will see what you know of the rebellion." Oh no, I thought, it's the general. This is bad news, he is known for getting information out of people. And I have heard that they are never the same after that...I hope I can be strong. I slowly looked up, my long, curly red hair brushing back from my eyes, "I'm not telling you anything!" And I meant it. I would rather die than let this man rule the world, which was what he wanted. He smiled cruelly and said, "We'll see about that. Guards take her down to interrogation room alpha. We will see if she tells us after a week down there."

Strong Enough

I groaned as I slowly woke up. Pain racked my body. I tried to remember what had happened as I glanced around the room I was in. Then I remembered: I was shot. I touched my neck, where one of the bullets had hit me. Instantly, my body registered a ton of pain. I examined the rest of me to see where I was shot. I was shot in my neck, my arm, my stomach, and my leg. I was lucky, I guess, none of the bullets were still inside of me. None of them hit anything vital. Then I checked my surrounds. I was in a small, dark room, there was a small cot, which I woke up on, and naught much else. Then I noticed that the door had a small slot in the bottom to push food through, and curiously enough, it had no handle on the inside. I was a prisoner.

I didn't even know where I was, or why I was taken prisoner, but I knew one thing: I had to escape at all costs. I hate being cooped up in small closed spaces, and being held prisoner with no window in my cell would be enough to drive me crazy within the first couple of days.

After what I guessed was an hour passed, I got up and started pacing the room. It was more like limping back and forth because of the wound in my leg, but I had to do something! I did that as long as could, and then I passed out on my bed. I woke up, a guesstimated couple of hours later, it could even be the next day. It was hard to tell the time in that cell. Since I had nothing better to do, I picked up one of the small rocks that littered the floor, and started to randomly write on the wall. I looked at what I had written and realized it was one of the bible verses that I had memorized; Jeremiah 29 - Then you will call on me and come and pry to me, and I will listen to you. 13 You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart. 14 "I will be found by you," declares the Lord, "and I will bring you back from captivity. I will gather you from all the nations and places where I have banished you," declares the Lord, "and will bring you back to the place from which I carried you into exile." I realized that the verses I had memorized as a kid were still with me, they were in my sub conscience. And these verses would most likely help me through the hard times that were sure to come.

Strong Enough (Song)

Well, maybe

Maybe that's the point

To reach the point of giving up

Cause when I'm finally

Finally at rock bottom

Well, that' when I start looking up

And reaching out

This part of the song called Strong Enough is my favorite part of the song. The reason I like it so much is because when all the stuff was going on in my life, I finally started looking up to God for my help. And it really helped with all I have gone through the past three years :)

Remembering 9/11

"Mommy, what's going on?" My five year old self asked staring at the television. My mother turned off what she was looking at and told me that something terrible has happened and that a lot of people just died. I went back to my room because she wanted to watch what was happening, but didn't want me to see it. Before I went upstairs, I took one last look at the television, and saw one of the towers collapse, then I ran up to my room.
I remembered this as I watched two documentaries this morning on all that had happened during 9/11. Now I could see why my mom did not want a five year old watching it, it was horrible. Seeing and hearing what happened to over 2,000 people that died. Worrying that my uncle might be a pilot on one of the hijacked planes, and the relief finding out that he wasn't is another vivid memory. Unfortunately, some people will not be able to say that.

Don't ever forget 9/11.

Homesick. That is the main word to describe us now. Homesick, lonely, weary to the bone, and dispirited. That is what we all are feeling when we are 30 miles or more away from our homeland. Too far (or so they thought) for us to run back home. Back to our families. Back to the old ways. The old ways of our people. But they were wrong.

One day, we decided we had enough. We did not want to be at this school, which was more of a prison than a school. We decided to run. Run all the way back home, and prove the people wrong. We are never too far to run back home. Thus, we decided to break out and run.

It took a good couple of weeks or so, but we finally made it back to the Hopi reservation. Pa said we had to go back, but we were not going back. They didn't know how we were treated. We were treated like savages. They cut the boys hair. They made us wear these uncomfortable uniforms, learn this language called English, punished us for even talking our language, or even acting like an Indian. Then only thing I remotely liked there, was the sports. There we could show our prowess outside.

But, the facilitator decided the games were too much, and banned them from being played. That's when we ran. Ran far away from the injustice of the government. Away from the injustices against the Indians. We ran home. Home to the old ways.

My second post for the blog competition :)

I cringed as bullets flew around me. I held onto the oak limb hoping that I would not get accidentally shot or fall down from the tree into the battle below. When I had first climbed the tree, I didn't think that a battle would break out right below me. A bullet whizzed past my ear.
All I wanted to do was take a break from my never ending list of chores. It was the daily work of a house in the little war torn town of Gettysburg. Of all the days I thought the battle would begin, today was the last on my list.
Today was my birthday. Another bullet whizzed past me. I whimpered. A girl, on her sixteenth birthday, in a tree above the Battle of Gettysburg, what a mess! Then again, I have been well known for some of the messes I've gotten into... like that one time involving the Smith's pigpen... I smiled.
Then I immediately screamed. A bullet had bored itself into my arm. Oh no! A soldiers was right below me looking up into the tree at me! This is NOT good!
"Who's up there?" He shouted.
"A girl," I yelled back, "Me names Sarah O'Malley, and I've been shot in me arm!"
"See if you can climb down Miss O'Malley, I will take you to the union hospital, they will then remove the bullet, and bandage your arm." I tried to carefully climb out of the tree, but I couldn't. I fell out instead.

Because I liked it :)

I'm borrowing this poem from a book I read because I liked it :)

It hangs like a weight around my neck

The things I've done, the things I've said.

Exposed, my plan buried me instead of him,

And now shame floods and surrounds, pulling me lower.

They call it gravity, but it feels like guilt.

I dream I am somewhere else, and no one knows

The Things I've done, the things I've said.

But when I open my eyes, I'm still here in my bed,

In the town where no one knows, but everyone should.

In the town where I'm stalked like a lion.

Just when I think the death sentence is coming,

When my life is about to end,

He speaks.

He takes the weight.

Removes the chain.

Lifts it with words.

And I am light again.

Alive.

Forgiven.

Dead End by Jerry B. Jenkins and Chris Fabry