Post by Isolde Moore on Oct 1, 2009 21:52:44 GMT
It was a sunny a day in Ireland for once and Isolde was outside the back of the garden on the swing chair, trying to enjoy the most of its rays. Usually, Isolde would take a sunny day in Ireland to be a lucky one but alas it was not that way today. No, Isolde felt as gloomy as ever.
All around her the birds were chirping, butterflies were sucking the nectar from the flowers and bees were going about their daily business. Satine's little Springer Spaniel was out the back chewing his bone and occasionally came up to her with it, hoping she would play with him.
Bringing her knees up to her chest she laid her chin on them and wrapped her arms around her shins and gazed up at the nearly cloudless sky. Her art pad, pencils (normal and colouring), paints, rubber, pastels and chalk were all lying beside her. The paper had a few lines drawn on it but that was it.
So many images had been going through her head since she had arrived back here. She would usually draw them out and they would go away but for some reason she couldn't draw these images. She couldn't put the images onto paper, it was too hard. Every time she tried she would only get a few outlines done and then stop. She knew the reason for it though. Apart from the fact she didn't have the morale or motivation, the images came and went by so quickly and they changed constantly.
Dark, dark images. Horrible violent ones. Ones she wished would stop haunting her and let her get some rest. Some peace of mind. She had tried to take some herbal tea, lit incense (much to her parents disliking)..She’d even taken a couple more pills than she was meant too in the hopes they would make her fall into a deep enough sleep and not cause her nightmares but it failed.
A bird dived down from a branch and landed on the grass and started to dig about for worms. It was close enough for Isolde to capture it in a picture. And that's what she did. She picked up her art pad, flipped to a new and fresh page and grabbed a pencil and started to draw its body and wings. She drew the grass around it and the wooden fence that lay behind it. She was so absorbed in the drawing that she didn't hear her mum come out.
"Isolde?" her mum's gentle voice was close.
Isolde finished off a wing before looking up at her mother, "Yes?"
"Do you want some lemonade?"
"..Sure." she smiled slightly and went back to her drawing. She heard her mother rattle about the kitchen and then come out with a tray; a jug of freshly made lemonade and three glasses, one of which was filled with ice cubes. Her mother put three ice cubes into each glass and then filled them up and passed one of them over to Isolde who took it off of her, took a sip before setting it down on the ground beside her and shifting all of her art utensils onto the ground as well, leaving a space for her mother to sit.
They sat in silence for a few minutes before Caitlin sighed and decided to open the conversation, "Isolde..I know you're not happy about what we did. I don't think I'd be happy either but you have to see where we're coming from. You're one of our only three children and we're just trying to protect you from all the danger and violence out there. We don't want to be visiting a morgue or arranging a funeral. We don't want to be burying a child...any of our children,"
Isolde stared at Sammy, who was now watching a bird on top of the fence. He had been doing that a lot lately. Staring after birds, cats, planes and flies. It was like he wasn’t getting enough food or attention. And just as Isolde thought that, Sammy barked as if replying to her.
Obviously Caitlin knew her daughter wasn’t going to reply sighed and carried on talking, “Isolde, how long are you going to ignore us? How long are you going to sulk and winge? How long are you going to carry on eating so little that you’re going to starve yourself?”
Isolde just sat there watching the shadows appear and disappear as the sun moved.
“Ok, if you’re not going to answer those then answer this. Is this boy-”
“Scott.”
“Scott, then. Is Scott the main reason you want to go back there?”
Isolde could feel her mother’s eyes boring into her cheek. Of course Scott was the main reason she wanted to go back. She loved him and he loved her. And if she had to be totally honest with herself, she felt like he was the only one who understood her and knew how to comfort her when she was at the height of pain, in a way no one else could. He could take the pain away easily. He was the one who had saved her, who helped her.
“Isolde?”
Isolde kept staring straight ahead, “No, he’s not.” If she knew her parents then she knew she couldn’t tell them that he was the main reason, otherwise she’d never be allowed to go back, that was assuming there was a chance.
“What are the other reasons?”
...Education, being happy, fighting for what I believe in and for the people I love, helping the school out to the best of my ability, helping other people..
"What do you think mam?" Isolde asked sarcastically through a sigh, "Education, helping the school out, contributing what I can, being happy and.." no, she wouldn't say that reason. She'd never convince them if she did.
"And..?"
"And nothing."
Isolde was quite used to the sighing her mum frequently came out with when she didn’t get what she wanted. She’d passed the freaking habit onto Isolde, although, Isolde sighed for different reasons entirely.
“Isolde, how do you expect us to let you go back to the school if you’re not honest with us?” her mother voice was cool.
“I’m being totally honest with you mother. If you’re too blind to see that then it’s not really my problem and you should go to see the opticians about it.” Isolde matched her tone perfectly but a little more clipped. And clipped is what Isolde got back in return.
“Isolde, don’t you dare talk to me like that. That attitude is not helping your argument any, do you understand ?” silence.. “Isolde?”
The girl turned to face her mother’s hard expression with an expression of disgust, “I’ve had enough.” And with that she got up and walked into the house again, her mother on her heels.
“Where are you going Isolde?”
“Out.”
“No, you’re not.”
Isolde’s hand was on the doorhandle where she stopped and twisted her torso round to face her mother, “Watch me.”
“Isolde, if you walk out that door, don’t ever think you’ll be welcomed back here. Do I make myself clear?”
“Perfectly. Means I can go back to Orchid then.” She smiled, turned the handle and her mother stared after her as she walked down the steps and down the street and out of site.
“...I don’t know what to do. I need help. Please help me, please.” Isolde begged the minister. She had found herself wandering to her church as soon as she had left her house. She didn’t know where she was going until she had actually gotten there.
“Isolde. Tell, what’s troubling you, dear child?” the Father smiled gently at her and encouraged her with a small nod and his eyes.
“Well, I don’t know. I don’t know where to begin. I’ve been fighting with my parents lately.” She sniffed and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.
“Why have you been fighting?” he asked gently.
“Well..Can I start from when it all happened?” she asked through glassy eyes.
“Of course,”
“Well.. about a week ago, my parents came and got me- more like dragged me, back home from my boarding school, Orchid Hill, against my will. They had caught wind of the recent battle from the news and they didn’t want me involved. I had almost died , when I was fighting in it. My boyfriend, Scott, saved me,” she smiled as she said this, “I didn’t want to come back. We’ve been arguing ever since.”
“Why didn’t you want to come back, Isolde?”
“...because I didn’t want to leave Scott. I want to have my education there, to help everyone in any way I can. Reverend, I was happy there and they dragged me away from it. I’ve been living in..I’ve been in a horrid state ever since. I hurt more than I ever did.” She stopped for a breath and looked at him in the eyes, “Scott made me happy. He’s the main reason I want to go back. When I’m with him, everything seems to brighten up and the pain seems to just fade away into nothing-ness.”
They sat there in silence. The Father taking in what she had just said and Isolde sat thinking about all the good times she had had with Scott.
“Isolde, I know you’re angry and very upset but understand where your parents are coming from. And as for happiness, you can find it anywhere if you look hard enough for it. God has given you a life to live to the full, it would be a waste to let it slip by,” he continued to smile, “And I’m sure you will see Scott when God sees it fit. Everything that happens is out of our hands. Our paths are laid down by God himself and only he knows where we’re headed.”
I know that. But I want to see Scott now. God, please, if you can, allow me to go back to Orchid. Allow me to see Scott again, to hear his voice, feel his touch, take in his scent..be with him.
“Father..I feel like I’m being chewed by something. Chewed and chewed and chewed, never being swallowed or spat out.” And as she said this she flinched.
“We can all feel like that at times. It’s normal. Isolde, you must remember that you have a family who loves you and would do anything for you, you have me to come to and most importantly, you have God to turn to. If you feel like you can’t turn to anyone around you, you know you can turn to him. He’s always there for everyone of us. He’s always listening.”
“I know, thank you Father,”
“Don’t thank me child, turn your thanks to God,” he laid his hand on her shoulder in a comforting way before standing up and as he walked away he stopped and turned, “Isolde?”
“Yes, Father?”
“Go back to your family. Try and reconcile with them. Forgive them and they will forgive you,” he smiled, nodded his head.
“I will, but I want to pray first, if that’s alright?”
“Of course it is.” And with that, he walked behind a door to the side further up the hall.
“Ok, Father, please heed my plea and answer my prayer,” she spoke to herself and she slid to her knees, put her hands together, bowed her head and started praying, her lips parted ever so slightly.
The door opened softly before closing softly. The house was silent and the only light that was in the hall was that of the sun coming through the windows on the stairs and the parlour. Isolde sighed silently and walked further down and went up the stairs, hoping she could avoid everyone and get into her art room. But of course, nothing was ever that easy.
“Isolde? Is that you?” her mother’s voice came from the study.
Isolde’s face twisted into a you’ve-been-caught expression, “Yes, mam, it’s me.”
She turned slightly to face the door, heard shuffling and Caitlin’s face appeared in the gap between the door and it’s frame, “Where were you? Where did you go?”
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” she sighed and shook her head ever so slight, staring at the wooden floor.
“Isolde.”
“Ok, ok. I was at the..church.” she smiled in hopes that her mother would believe her.
“Tell the truth, Isolde. Please, no more avoiding or lies,”
“I’m not avoiding or lying to you, mam.” She stared her mother in the eyes, determined to make her believe her.
“Another lie.”
“I’m not lying!”
“Prove it.”
“Ok, come with me to see Father Thomas. Come on, if you won’t believe your own daughter then perhaps you’ll believe your own minister!”
Caitlin stared into her daughter’s eyes, looking for any sign that she was lying to her. But there wasn’t any. Isolde didn’t appear to be lying..then again, she could have been taught how to lie in the school.
“How do I know you haven’t used your powers on him or whatever?”
“Mam, how can I? I don’t have powers of hypnosis or manipulation, I can’t do that. I can control wind, melt, mould and shape plastic..and make my drawings come to life.” Isolde answered her straight forwardly.
“Again, you could be lying to me, you could have learned how to.”
“I’m a Warrior mam, not a Spy,” Isolde sighed.
“Yes, I’ve been thinking about that. Why were you put into that group with your condition? Shouldn’t you be in a..less...violent one? It only makes sense.” Her mother seemed to be truly puzzled at that.
Isolde was starting to get annoyed. She didn’t want to move groups. She loved the group she was in. And her mum wasn’t the first one to disapprove of it. Isolde knew Scott didn’t exactly agree to her being in the Warriors either. He had never mentioned it but she could see it.
“I don’t know or care. I like the group I’m in.” Isolde said coldly.
“That may be Isolde, but it’s not safe. You could die out there if your disease distracts you or becomes too much. I don’t like the thought of that,” her mother looked pleading.
“What? You mean like I did nearly three weeks back? You mean when Scott carried me all the way back to the Carers when I was dying from a sword piercing my abdomen? Yes, I would have died if Scott hadn’t found me in time but you know what? At least I would have died happily!” she spoke fiercely.
“Happily? How is dying in a battle happy?”
“Because, mother. I would have fought for what I thought was the right thing, fighting for my friends, fighting for my boyfriend. Mam, I was happy there. And you and dad went and took my happiness from me. Took it away without even asking me, without even thinking about what would happen to me if you did. Ever since I’ve been here, I’ve been in more pain than I’ve ever been in, in my life. At least if I had died out there, I would have died happily because I got to do something I wanted to do, was happy to do.” She took in a deep breath before turning her head away and shutting her eyes.
“Isolde...I-”
“You what!? You’re sorry? You’re guilty? You want a second chance? Not happening. All my life you guys have made all the decisions for me. Well guess what mam, I’m not a child anymore! I’m my own person! I should get to decide what I want to do with my life. I should be allowed to decide how to live it, not you or dad, you’re not going to decide for me anymore.” Turning on her heels Isolde stalked down the hall and into her art room.
She walked over to where plastic sheets had been laid out on the floor where she painted. She walked forward before spinning and walking the other way and back again. She paced while muttering to herself.
“ARGH!” she thrusted her arm out to the side and knocked a can of pain on the floor. Blue ran out all over covering the sheet, making it look like an ocean. And as Isolde watched it she began to get an image in her head. And this image she started to paint...on the wall. A page was not going to big enough.
The sea.
Golden sand.
Sunset.
A dog.
A child.
A couple walking hand in hand.
What Isolde was seeing in her head calmed her down and made her smile. She would show this to Scott sometime. When the time was right. She would show him the picture she had painted on the wall from her head. The picture of what she hoped would come true.
Her future with Scott.
And as Isolde thought about his, she knew what the Father had said was right. God decided everyone’s future. He already knew what their future was like. And she hoped he would answer her prayer.
Father. Please help me. I feel so lost and scared and alone. I’m in the worst pain I’ve ever been in my life. Please help me to eleviate it. Help me get back to Orchid Hill. Help me get back to Scott. Help me forgive my family and keep them all safe. Keep everyone I know safe in the future.
If I don’t get to go back to Orchid and if for some reason I never get the chance to see Scott again, help him to move on. Help him find his happy ending. Help him find his happiness and his way in the world. He deserves it. More than anyone I know. He is the sweetest, most caring person I’ve ever met and he doesn’t deserve to have anything wrong to happen to him. He’s more than decent. Help him move on if we can never be together.
And..if I die, help everyone I know to move, help them to understand that I’ll hopefully be in the promised land and that I’m safe. Help them not to mourn me but to celebrate the life I had.
God? Help me to get through these weeks without Scott.
And if you can, please, please, please answer this prayer. I love you soo much and I would do anything for you.
Thank you.
She raised her head and opened her eyes, “Amen.”
All around her the birds were chirping, butterflies were sucking the nectar from the flowers and bees were going about their daily business. Satine's little Springer Spaniel was out the back chewing his bone and occasionally came up to her with it, hoping she would play with him.
Bringing her knees up to her chest she laid her chin on them and wrapped her arms around her shins and gazed up at the nearly cloudless sky. Her art pad, pencils (normal and colouring), paints, rubber, pastels and chalk were all lying beside her. The paper had a few lines drawn on it but that was it.
So many images had been going through her head since she had arrived back here. She would usually draw them out and they would go away but for some reason she couldn't draw these images. She couldn't put the images onto paper, it was too hard. Every time she tried she would only get a few outlines done and then stop. She knew the reason for it though. Apart from the fact she didn't have the morale or motivation, the images came and went by so quickly and they changed constantly.
Dark, dark images. Horrible violent ones. Ones she wished would stop haunting her and let her get some rest. Some peace of mind. She had tried to take some herbal tea, lit incense (much to her parents disliking)..She’d even taken a couple more pills than she was meant too in the hopes they would make her fall into a deep enough sleep and not cause her nightmares but it failed.
A bird dived down from a branch and landed on the grass and started to dig about for worms. It was close enough for Isolde to capture it in a picture. And that's what she did. She picked up her art pad, flipped to a new and fresh page and grabbed a pencil and started to draw its body and wings. She drew the grass around it and the wooden fence that lay behind it. She was so absorbed in the drawing that she didn't hear her mum come out.
"Isolde?" her mum's gentle voice was close.
Isolde finished off a wing before looking up at her mother, "Yes?"
"Do you want some lemonade?"
"..Sure." she smiled slightly and went back to her drawing. She heard her mother rattle about the kitchen and then come out with a tray; a jug of freshly made lemonade and three glasses, one of which was filled with ice cubes. Her mother put three ice cubes into each glass and then filled them up and passed one of them over to Isolde who took it off of her, took a sip before setting it down on the ground beside her and shifting all of her art utensils onto the ground as well, leaving a space for her mother to sit.
They sat in silence for a few minutes before Caitlin sighed and decided to open the conversation, "Isolde..I know you're not happy about what we did. I don't think I'd be happy either but you have to see where we're coming from. You're one of our only three children and we're just trying to protect you from all the danger and violence out there. We don't want to be visiting a morgue or arranging a funeral. We don't want to be burying a child...any of our children,"
Isolde stared at Sammy, who was now watching a bird on top of the fence. He had been doing that a lot lately. Staring after birds, cats, planes and flies. It was like he wasn’t getting enough food or attention. And just as Isolde thought that, Sammy barked as if replying to her.
Obviously Caitlin knew her daughter wasn’t going to reply sighed and carried on talking, “Isolde, how long are you going to ignore us? How long are you going to sulk and winge? How long are you going to carry on eating so little that you’re going to starve yourself?”
Isolde just sat there watching the shadows appear and disappear as the sun moved.
“Ok, if you’re not going to answer those then answer this. Is this boy-”
“Scott.”
“Scott, then. Is Scott the main reason you want to go back there?”
Isolde could feel her mother’s eyes boring into her cheek. Of course Scott was the main reason she wanted to go back. She loved him and he loved her. And if she had to be totally honest with herself, she felt like he was the only one who understood her and knew how to comfort her when she was at the height of pain, in a way no one else could. He could take the pain away easily. He was the one who had saved her, who helped her.
“Isolde?”
Isolde kept staring straight ahead, “No, he’s not.” If she knew her parents then she knew she couldn’t tell them that he was the main reason, otherwise she’d never be allowed to go back, that was assuming there was a chance.
“What are the other reasons?”
...Education, being happy, fighting for what I believe in and for the people I love, helping the school out to the best of my ability, helping other people..
"What do you think mam?" Isolde asked sarcastically through a sigh, "Education, helping the school out, contributing what I can, being happy and.." no, she wouldn't say that reason. She'd never convince them if she did.
"And..?"
"And nothing."
Isolde was quite used to the sighing her mum frequently came out with when she didn’t get what she wanted. She’d passed the freaking habit onto Isolde, although, Isolde sighed for different reasons entirely.
“Isolde, how do you expect us to let you go back to the school if you’re not honest with us?” her mother voice was cool.
“I’m being totally honest with you mother. If you’re too blind to see that then it’s not really my problem and you should go to see the opticians about it.” Isolde matched her tone perfectly but a little more clipped. And clipped is what Isolde got back in return.
“Isolde, don’t you dare talk to me like that. That attitude is not helping your argument any, do you understand ?” silence.. “Isolde?”
The girl turned to face her mother’s hard expression with an expression of disgust, “I’ve had enough.” And with that she got up and walked into the house again, her mother on her heels.
“Where are you going Isolde?”
“Out.”
“No, you’re not.”
Isolde’s hand was on the doorhandle where she stopped and twisted her torso round to face her mother, “Watch me.”
“Isolde, if you walk out that door, don’t ever think you’ll be welcomed back here. Do I make myself clear?”
“Perfectly. Means I can go back to Orchid then.” She smiled, turned the handle and her mother stared after her as she walked down the steps and down the street and out of site.
* * *
“...I don’t know what to do. I need help. Please help me, please.” Isolde begged the minister. She had found herself wandering to her church as soon as she had left her house. She didn’t know where she was going until she had actually gotten there.
“Isolde. Tell, what’s troubling you, dear child?” the Father smiled gently at her and encouraged her with a small nod and his eyes.
“Well, I don’t know. I don’t know where to begin. I’ve been fighting with my parents lately.” She sniffed and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.
“Why have you been fighting?” he asked gently.
“Well..Can I start from when it all happened?” she asked through glassy eyes.
“Of course,”
“Well.. about a week ago, my parents came and got me- more like dragged me, back home from my boarding school, Orchid Hill, against my will. They had caught wind of the recent battle from the news and they didn’t want me involved. I had almost died , when I was fighting in it. My boyfriend, Scott, saved me,” she smiled as she said this, “I didn’t want to come back. We’ve been arguing ever since.”
“Why didn’t you want to come back, Isolde?”
“...because I didn’t want to leave Scott. I want to have my education there, to help everyone in any way I can. Reverend, I was happy there and they dragged me away from it. I’ve been living in..I’ve been in a horrid state ever since. I hurt more than I ever did.” She stopped for a breath and looked at him in the eyes, “Scott made me happy. He’s the main reason I want to go back. When I’m with him, everything seems to brighten up and the pain seems to just fade away into nothing-ness.”
They sat there in silence. The Father taking in what she had just said and Isolde sat thinking about all the good times she had had with Scott.
“Isolde, I know you’re angry and very upset but understand where your parents are coming from. And as for happiness, you can find it anywhere if you look hard enough for it. God has given you a life to live to the full, it would be a waste to let it slip by,” he continued to smile, “And I’m sure you will see Scott when God sees it fit. Everything that happens is out of our hands. Our paths are laid down by God himself and only he knows where we’re headed.”
I know that. But I want to see Scott now. God, please, if you can, allow me to go back to Orchid. Allow me to see Scott again, to hear his voice, feel his touch, take in his scent..be with him.
“Father..I feel like I’m being chewed by something. Chewed and chewed and chewed, never being swallowed or spat out.” And as she said this she flinched.
“We can all feel like that at times. It’s normal. Isolde, you must remember that you have a family who loves you and would do anything for you, you have me to come to and most importantly, you have God to turn to. If you feel like you can’t turn to anyone around you, you know you can turn to him. He’s always there for everyone of us. He’s always listening.”
“I know, thank you Father,”
“Don’t thank me child, turn your thanks to God,” he laid his hand on her shoulder in a comforting way before standing up and as he walked away he stopped and turned, “Isolde?”
“Yes, Father?”
“Go back to your family. Try and reconcile with them. Forgive them and they will forgive you,” he smiled, nodded his head.
“I will, but I want to pray first, if that’s alright?”
“Of course it is.” And with that, he walked behind a door to the side further up the hall.
“Ok, Father, please heed my plea and answer my prayer,” she spoke to herself and she slid to her knees, put her hands together, bowed her head and started praying, her lips parted ever so slightly.
* * *
The door opened softly before closing softly. The house was silent and the only light that was in the hall was that of the sun coming through the windows on the stairs and the parlour. Isolde sighed silently and walked further down and went up the stairs, hoping she could avoid everyone and get into her art room. But of course, nothing was ever that easy.
“Isolde? Is that you?” her mother’s voice came from the study.
Isolde’s face twisted into a you’ve-been-caught expression, “Yes, mam, it’s me.”
She turned slightly to face the door, heard shuffling and Caitlin’s face appeared in the gap between the door and it’s frame, “Where were you? Where did you go?”
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” she sighed and shook her head ever so slight, staring at the wooden floor.
“Isolde.”
“Ok, ok. I was at the..church.” she smiled in hopes that her mother would believe her.
“Tell the truth, Isolde. Please, no more avoiding or lies,”
“I’m not avoiding or lying to you, mam.” She stared her mother in the eyes, determined to make her believe her.
“Another lie.”
“I’m not lying!”
“Prove it.”
“Ok, come with me to see Father Thomas. Come on, if you won’t believe your own daughter then perhaps you’ll believe your own minister!”
Caitlin stared into her daughter’s eyes, looking for any sign that she was lying to her. But there wasn’t any. Isolde didn’t appear to be lying..then again, she could have been taught how to lie in the school.
“How do I know you haven’t used your powers on him or whatever?”
“Mam, how can I? I don’t have powers of hypnosis or manipulation, I can’t do that. I can control wind, melt, mould and shape plastic..and make my drawings come to life.” Isolde answered her straight forwardly.
“Again, you could be lying to me, you could have learned how to.”
“I’m a Warrior mam, not a Spy,” Isolde sighed.
“Yes, I’ve been thinking about that. Why were you put into that group with your condition? Shouldn’t you be in a..less...violent one? It only makes sense.” Her mother seemed to be truly puzzled at that.
Isolde was starting to get annoyed. She didn’t want to move groups. She loved the group she was in. And her mum wasn’t the first one to disapprove of it. Isolde knew Scott didn’t exactly agree to her being in the Warriors either. He had never mentioned it but she could see it.
“I don’t know or care. I like the group I’m in.” Isolde said coldly.
“That may be Isolde, but it’s not safe. You could die out there if your disease distracts you or becomes too much. I don’t like the thought of that,” her mother looked pleading.
“What? You mean like I did nearly three weeks back? You mean when Scott carried me all the way back to the Carers when I was dying from a sword piercing my abdomen? Yes, I would have died if Scott hadn’t found me in time but you know what? At least I would have died happily!” she spoke fiercely.
“Happily? How is dying in a battle happy?”
“Because, mother. I would have fought for what I thought was the right thing, fighting for my friends, fighting for my boyfriend. Mam, I was happy there. And you and dad went and took my happiness from me. Took it away without even asking me, without even thinking about what would happen to me if you did. Ever since I’ve been here, I’ve been in more pain than I’ve ever been in, in my life. At least if I had died out there, I would have died happily because I got to do something I wanted to do, was happy to do.” She took in a deep breath before turning her head away and shutting her eyes.
“Isolde...I-”
“You what!? You’re sorry? You’re guilty? You want a second chance? Not happening. All my life you guys have made all the decisions for me. Well guess what mam, I’m not a child anymore! I’m my own person! I should get to decide what I want to do with my life. I should be allowed to decide how to live it, not you or dad, you’re not going to decide for me anymore.” Turning on her heels Isolde stalked down the hall and into her art room.
She walked over to where plastic sheets had been laid out on the floor where she painted. She walked forward before spinning and walking the other way and back again. She paced while muttering to herself.
“ARGH!” she thrusted her arm out to the side and knocked a can of pain on the floor. Blue ran out all over covering the sheet, making it look like an ocean. And as Isolde watched it she began to get an image in her head. And this image she started to paint...on the wall. A page was not going to big enough.
The sea.
Golden sand.
Sunset.
A dog.
A child.
A couple walking hand in hand.
What Isolde was seeing in her head calmed her down and made her smile. She would show this to Scott sometime. When the time was right. She would show him the picture she had painted on the wall from her head. The picture of what she hoped would come true.
Her future with Scott.
And as Isolde thought about his, she knew what the Father had said was right. God decided everyone’s future. He already knew what their future was like. And she hoped he would answer her prayer.
Father. Please help me. I feel so lost and scared and alone. I’m in the worst pain I’ve ever been in my life. Please help me to eleviate it. Help me get back to Orchid Hill. Help me get back to Scott. Help me forgive my family and keep them all safe. Keep everyone I know safe in the future.
If I don’t get to go back to Orchid and if for some reason I never get the chance to see Scott again, help him to move on. Help him find his happy ending. Help him find his happiness and his way in the world. He deserves it. More than anyone I know. He is the sweetest, most caring person I’ve ever met and he doesn’t deserve to have anything wrong to happen to him. He’s more than decent. Help him move on if we can never be together.
And..if I die, help everyone I know to move, help them to understand that I’ll hopefully be in the promised land and that I’m safe. Help them not to mourn me but to celebrate the life I had.
God? Help me to get through these weeks without Scott.
And if you can, please, please, please answer this prayer. I love you soo much and I would do anything for you.
Thank you.
She raised her head and opened her eyes, “Amen.”
