Hey guys! I’m back. This is another flash fiction for my creative writing class and I hope this will serve as an inspiration to all the readers. All the love ❤
I knew the first time I stepped in this school, my whole life will change and I guess it did. The wind blew so hard that all my paper works were scattered on the floor and just like I expected there was no one to help me. I picked it all up and hurriedly run on the messy hallways filled with different kind of students just like having their own world of themselves, I didn’t care. I went to my room and as usual, all my classmates did not notice me and then I sat on my favorite chair on the right side at the back. I had the glimpse of all my classmates busy chatting or whatsoever. Then my professor in Creative Writing arrived, looked at me intently and called my name, “Teagan, can you please come with me?” I quickly stood up, held my bag, and followed my professor. My heart was about to burst in my chest, I didn’t know what’s the reason behind it. I glanced at the hallways, they were empty, and scattered trashes of irresponsible students were on the marbled floor. It quite bugged me, I wished this school would be clean, ‘cause this place was beautiful to me, probably. We came in his office; I sat down on the chair that he asked me to sit. And then I held my breath. He started speaking “Teagan, I’m very impressed with your works you submitted last week.” Silence filled the air and then I smiled, so wide, that he was caught in a daze. Thank you so much Sir, I almost shouted, but I controlled myself. And then he continued “I have one challenge for you, write me a story that is not like the cliche ones, make it interesting and worth-reading. Will it be okay with you?” I was shook, but I will accept that challenge. I whispered, yes sir and then his last statement almost brought me into cloud nine, “If I will like your story, I may submit it in Youth Writers’ Association Publication and allow it to be published and distributed all over the world.” And then it hit me, this will be the key to all my dreams and I will never allow myself not to grab it.
My mind was playing all those circumstances I aspired to happen, being a well-known writer that is adored by people all over the world. It was just wow, I sighed. Can I really do it? Write a story that will exceed everyone’s expectations? Maybe, but my mind was a clutter. My parents were about to accomplish their divorce papers. My scholarship was about to get terminated due to my absences because of my part time jobs. I had no friend to rely on. I was sitting on the bench and I did not notice that my tears started falling on my cheeks and all I can do was wipe it with my bare hands. I merely brought handkerchief in my school these past days, I always forgot about it. But, my eyes widen when a hanky was offered directly across my face and it was held by a brown-haired girl smiling at me. I had no guts to say no so I took it. She smiled and spoke, “Wanna hangout? There was a coffee shop near the area; I might introduce you to someone that may help you in all your problems.” I doubted her but still she had that aura that when she offered something, you may never refuse or reject it. I trusted her, and that became one of the best decisions I ever had. I finally met him.
At the coffee shop, she introduced me to this guy that whenever I talked to him, all the heaviness I felt was blown away just like a bubble that disappeared in a snap. Almost all the times I talked to him, what happened all throughout the day and also the embarrassing things I did in school and in my work. When I’m with him, I no longer pretend to be that girl, who’s happy but deep inside so sad, longing for that care that only him who can give. He was always there when I needed him, gave me advices in all my struggles, hugged me when I felt so cold and alone. He was there, always there. He was my anchor in the waves of difficulties. He was my fortress, my wall; my shield that protected me in all weapons threw by this cruel life. He had this promises that I truly knew that he will never break any single one of them. I talked to him every night, before I go to bed, and every night I cried, but he was there, hugging me from behind, hushing me and saying that everything will be alright. That guy gave me the definition of love.
I started writing about him. I had no idea that he inspired me the most. I had written a thousand words, but no words can express his love for me. His love that glued all my broken pieces together.
My story was done; I printed it, stapled it, and put it in the folder, and got ready to give it to my professor. Right in the front page was shown in bold calligraphy letters the title of my masterpiece, “The Man on the Cross.” And I felt happy, even though this will be rejected, at least I shared the truth of the definition of love, and it really was that simple man who’s name is Jesus Christ.