Thursday, November 13, 2014

The Broken Soul ~ A Short Story By Me

I had to write a story about someone who finds their way back to God.  The following is the story.  It is missing a few details, but the ones I leave out are supposed to leave you wondering. 

My sister went over it and thought it was very good (minus the leaving out a few details) however I think it makes the story more of a mystery that leaves you wanting to read more. 

So without further adieu, here is my short story which I'm calling The Broken Soul.  Enjoy!



           What had he done? Deangelo ran backwards in fear from the bloody corpse.  The lifeless eyes haunted his every move.   Deangelo fell as he tripped on his worn sandals.  As he frantically tried to stand, he noticed blood was splattered on his hands and robe.  He held in a panicked scream.  The color was deep and rich.  The beauty of the redness was crushed by terror, caused from the warmth of it.

            Deangelo fled frantically.  There was no way to explain this to his family, or to anyone, for that matter.  No one would believe it was an accident.  Why should they?  His breath was light and his heart pounding.  After making it to the outskirts of the city, Deangelo collapsed from lack of breath.  He tried to control the pounding of his heart which felt as though it was going to rip right through the very flesh of his chest.

            In his mind, Deangelo kept playing the image of the body, lying sprawled out on the ground.  Blood, covering his cloths brought the scents of the kill to Deangelo’s mind.  He felt weak and nauseous.  He felt fatigued and unstable.   His feelings felt estranged from common sense.   Suddenly, without any control over his emotions, he began to weep bitterly.

            He tried to stop himself, but was unable to.  How could he have taken a life? How would he ever be able to return to the city?  He would be known as a murderer and thrown in prison.  His family would despise him and his friends spit in his face.  It was an innocent mistake which would haunt him for the rest of his life.  He would never touch another sword again.
  The face of the victim was engraved upon his mind.  Not only did he take a life, but the life of the very woman he loved.  Was it truly his fault?  He should never have thrown that sword.  Yet, how was he to know she would walk around the corner?  Deangelo let out and anguished scream and smothered his face into the dirt. 

            His tears caused mud, which incased his teeth and filled his mouth.   If he would flee the country, they would accuse him of murder without being able to prove otherwise.  But if he stayed, he would be unable to prove it wasn’t an accident and they would hang him for it.  Nineteen was too young to die, especially the demise of a traitor.  He would never be forgiven, never.

            As Deangelo lay, weeping and pounding the ground a dark shadow came over him.  In horror he spun his weakened body around.  Over him stood a man dressed in a dark brown covering, with beautiful wooden beads around his waist.   Deangelo was too weak to even attempt to run.  His face was stained with tears, his eyes blood-shot, and his mouth dirty and cracked.

            The man kneeled down next to Deangelo and embracing him, held him close.  Deangelo could do nothing but cry bitterly.   The man’s gray hair covered his castle of knowledge.  Out of delirium, Deangelo told the man the entire story through sobs.  The man listened closely to every word.  Not once did he appear shocked or angry.  Instead, he comforted the boy more and spoke words of kindness towards him.

            Calling him by name, the padre said, “Deangelo, God loves you and saw all that you speak of.  He knows your heart and He knows you.  With God, you can do everything, even go back to the City and tell the girl’s father what truly happened.”

            Deangelo protested, arguing through sobs that the girl’s father would never believe him.  That he would instead have him hung by a tree. 

            The old man replied, “Through God, all things are possible.  As the Bible teaches us in Colossians three thirteen, ‘Bear with each other and forgive whatever grievances you may have against one another. Forgive as the Lord forgave you.’”

            The padre asked if Deangelo knew God and was Christian.  Deangelo shook his head, his body ached and he felt feeble.  The man asked him if he would like to make a confession, because no matter how terrible a sin, if truly sorry, it can be forgiven by God.  He told Deangelo the story of the lost sheep and said Deangelo was like that sheep.  When he sinned by killing the girl, like the sheep he fled.  Yet the shepherded still went out and looked for him.  And when he found the sheep, he rejoiced and brought it back home.

            “Deangelo, like the sheep, you are lost.  But God wants you back.  Go to your friend’s father and tell him what you’ve done.  He will be grieved, of course, but he will forgive you your sins.”

            Smiling, the old man stood up and began walking away.  Deangelo wiped away the tears from his exhausted face.  He looked up to speak, but the man was gone.  Deangelo stumbled to his feet. The face of the body was clear in his mind.  The memory of her as she faded to the floor and then took her last breath crushed his very soul.  Yet deep down in the very core of his conscious, he knew the old man was right. 

            No matter what was to come, he should go back and tell the girl’s father.  He felt strange, as though he wasn’t afraid to be hung if it were to come to that.  In God’s eyes, he was forgiven as the old padre had listened to his confession.  He felt confident that no matter what, God loved him and knew the true situation.  With a heavy soul and crushed heart, Deangelo began the long walk back to the city. 
 
The End
 
 
*No Copy Writing