Emotions – NaNoWriMo Excerpt


This is a piece from the book I am writing for NaNoWriMo. Please keep in mind that it is a very very rough draft. 🙂

Hopelessness

When all hope is lost. You don’t know how anyone could ever love you, because you are such a worthless, sinful person. When you are scared to pray to God because you don’t want to be hurt anymore. When you can’t talk to the person that you love the very most in all of the world because they are always busy. Constantly getting your hopes up, only to be crushed when nothing works out again. Wondering why you even thought anything would work out in the first place. Hopelessness is when you feel like you have fallen so far that you don’t know how you can ever get up again. It is when you close your eyes and cannot even imagine a good ending. It is when you begin to just accept the fact that nothing is ever going to work out the way that you wanted it to. When your heart has been so shattered that it is unrecognizable, and you can’t even try to put it back together because you don’t even know where all the pieces are.

Hopelessness is when you are in a deep hole and you can’t get out. Then someone comes along and throws you are rope, and you begin to climb it, but when you get half way up, you find that the rope has thorns on it, and you cannot get out without ripping your hands apart, and you are so shocked that you fall back down into the hole. Then someone else comes along and throws you another rope. You are hesitant to climb it after the last rope, so you climb much slower this time. The person that has thrown the rope gets bored and drops it, leaving you to fall back into the hole. You sit and cry and shake and hurt for a while, until someone else comes. The next rope you climb carefully, at a reasonable speed, but the person holding the rope grunts because you are too heavy, and they drop the rope. They look at you apologetically before leaving. You sit in the hole feeling your stomach, pinching your fat in some places, grabbing it in other places. Finally, another rope is there, and you inch over to the rope and look at it for a moment, before testing it out. You eventually decide that it is okay to climb it, but before you can even start, the person has been waiting for so long that they think that you must not want to climb out after all, and they leave. With the next rope, you are so scared that the person holding the rope will leave you, that you rush to it and begin climbing it so fast that the person holding the rope is scared and they leave you to fall again. It is a long time before anyone else comes. So many people have tried to get you out, but then left, that you begin to feel like you had so many opportunities, but you messed everything up. Finally, another rope is thrown, and you feel that this is your last chance to get out. You climb slowly, but this person is kind. You slip a few times, and still they wait for you. You flinch periodically because you are afraid that they are going to drop the rope, but they don’t. They speak to you and make you feel better, and help you when you have trouble climbing. They almost drop you a couple of times, but they hold on as tight as they can, waiting for as long as they need to. However, you get so scared that they are going to drop you, that eventually you just jump off the rope yourself. The person is so hurt, and so surprised that they leave sadly, thinking that they did something wrong, not understanding what has happened. When a short time later you realize what you have done, it is too late. You cry and call for them, but they are gone.

That, is what helplessness feels like. That is what I feel like.

Just One Rose


On April 1, in the year 2012, people on the streets watch as a man walks into a flower shop and picks up a solitary rose. He walks over to the check out line and waits patiently until it his turn.

The man puts his money on the counter.

“Will that will be all sir?” asks the friendly sales clerk.

“Yes, that will be all.” replies the man.

He walks out of the door holding the rose. He crosses the street, carefully checking to make sure that the way was clear first.

People stare as he goes by, wondering. They whisper to each other, asking themselves, “Why did he only buy one rose?”

One lady wearing fine jewels and a fur coat tells her husband, “I bet that he is going to give the rose to his wife, the cheap man. Probably for their anniversary. Some men just don’t know how to spend money on their wives.”

Her husband nods as he watches his wife smell the bouquet of flowers he had just bought her. “Lets see where he is going.”

The man continues to walk at a quick, steady pace, determined to reach his destination, completely unaware of the people beginning to follow him.

People driving down the street stare and think, “I wonder why he is walking instead of driving in a car. It is terribly old-fashioned to walk in this day and age.”

Finally, he turns into Rose Cemetery, a small crowd of people following at a distance, not wanting him to know they were there. They had been following him for a while now, curious to see where he was going to. He seems to already know where he was going, so they watch behind trees and bushes.

He walks up to one of the grave stones and sets the rose down on top of it. He sits down next to it even though he is wearing a suit.

After a moment, a lady wearing a dress that looks slightly worn walks up next to the man and sits down. They talk some, but mostly they just stare at the grave stone. Finally, after almost half an hour, the man and woman stand, hand in hand, and walk away.

As soon as they were out of sight, the people ran out from hiding and up to the grave stone. It read;

Leslie Jade Mason

Daughter of Mark and Diane Mason

Born April 1, 1996

Died April 1, 1996

The men took off their hats and the women bowed their heads in shame. Today, had been his daughter’s 16th birthday.