Thursday, April 3, 2014

Guest Post: Rescue

Hello Everyone! It's been too long. (cough)  Sorry about the mess, come on in! (clears out cobwebs) How have you been? (trips over old manuscripts) Never mind, this is getting awkward.

Anyway, it's M. here, and I just stopped by to share a creative wr.....

- NEWS FLASH: I learned a cool new word yesterday. Orthography, which means "writing straight" or referring to spelling. Now I can say that I am skilled in orthography and am very verbose! - 

I am horrible at keeping up with my hobbies. I am also great at procrastinating! The two added together equals a crazy blog. I invited a few of our friends, who are also aspiring writers, to submit a story to us! This particular story was written by my friend L. and is called Rescue. Enjoy!

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I sat in a cold dark cell. I could remember no life before this dirty place. The warden told me that I was born in the prison and had been a criminal like my parents from early childhood. My earliest memory was of yelling wildly at the warden as I held the bars of my cell. I couldn't have been more than 5 years old.

I soon learned that screaming was of no use and tried to act on my best behavior in hope that I would somehow be let out because of it. I was the best behaved of all the prisoners in The King’s dungeons and yet it was not good enough. I eventually realized that it was of no use and for a while I tried to make my cell feel like a home. I had “decorated” the walls with whatever I could find and with the little money I earned from cleaning I bought an old cushion for my bed. But still my cell was dark and lonely. I turned to the other prisoners for help and tried many of their suggestions to make my life in the cells feel better. Some told me that the whole prison was just an illusion and that I could be wherever I imagined, but the cell I had lived in all my life was all too real. Others gave me advice on how to make my cell nicer or said that I should try to pay off my debt as they sought to do, but I knew now that the crime I had committed could not be paid for except by death. I eventually gave in to despair. For a while I cried out for help, but after months of crying with no hope of answer I gave up and sat silently in despair.

Then one day as I sat leaning against the bars of my cell, tears streaming silently down my face, a man came into the dungeon. He was dressed in a pure white robe and his face showed both authority and compassion. I then saw a crown on his head and knew that He must be the prince. I turned my face down and backward toward the inside of my cell as I began to shake. The weight of my crimes came over me like a wave as I longed to be pure before this man. I knew that my crimes were truly against him and his father.

I listened to the sound of his footsteps as my body shock with fear and shame. His footsteps were getting closer and I knew not what to do. What did he want with me? Had my time of judgment finally arrived? Then I felt a firm hand on my thin arm and heard a strong yet gentle voice tell me, “Do not be afraid. I have not come to condemn you but to set you free!” To set me free? Could it be that this man, the Prince, had sought and gained my pardon? Was it possible that they had dropped my charges and would truly let me go free? No it couldn't be. It must be some trick. Pushing away the loving hand I stumbled farther into my cell not daring to look back, I fell to the ground.

“My Father cares deeply for you and wishes to make you his own child” he said “but it was impossible because of your many crimes. Anyone who breaks my father’s law must pay for it in death… but there is one exception…if a righteous person will take the penalty instead… Three days ago I was executed on your behalf but today my Father has restored my life and now I come to set you free! Your debt is paid and you may come and live freely in the palace! You need only to trust that what I have now told you is true and come with me to your freedom.”

For a moment I feared that these were lies. Why would the prince take the place of a prisoner? How could He come back to life if He had been executed? But as I turned to look at him I saw once again the love in His eyes and I knew that He would not lie to me.

So I stood, shaking slightly. He now stood in the open doorway with outstretched arms and I ran to Him. He held me, kissed my tangled hair and told me something no one had ever told me before: “I Love you.”

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A round of applause for L! Thanks for sharing with us! I will be back soon to post a new creative writing prompt invented by my very own brain! (Stop laughing! Stop it, I say)

See you later!
M.

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I love hearing from you! Please keep comments on topic and use respectful language. Thanks for following this blog! -M.