女儿的第一篇小说（一）

这是女儿在十二岁开始写的第一篇长篇小说，写到十三岁也就停下了。问她为啥不接着写下去，她说：当时的写作冲动过去了，，不想再写下去了。

我的理解是，当时正是她爸爸闹家变最激烈之时， 作为女儿，她很想让爸爸注意到她的想法，可发了疯一般的爸爸根本不把女儿的存在放在眼里。

那种无助，与愤慨，促使女儿写下了这部以她自己为原型的长篇小说.

可以说，是写作，让女儿找到了平衡，与解脱。

在基督里，我们一家得到了安息。

Resurrection Project

2003-

Resurrection

Chapter 1

I was a loner that no one regarded or even took noticed to when they passed me in the streets…”

Night time was always a noisy time for the city. It was complete bedlam with people rushing here and there, eager to get to their own destinations, oblivious to the strenuous activity all about them. Even as the skies faded to a deep obscurity of swollen stray clouds lazily slugging through the atmosphere; the dazzling city lights conquering the infinite heavens. America was at the brink of its power, with polished new cars that zoomed to and fro; tall skyscrapers that seemed to reach far beyond the usual lapis-lazuli sky and lastly, rumors of ‘silent magic films’ opening up in a place no one heard of called “Hollywood”. As for me, you couldn’t pick my face out of any random crowd.

Even if you did, I was quite a repulsion to behold. My eyes were baggy and crimson, my face was scarred with the ceaseless pain of immense heartache. Hiding my wretched head behind the collars of my long coat, I hurried along the sidewalk, having nothing to do with those close to my proximity. But I was not always this way. Something happened before that broke my heart and changed my views on life forever.

          I was a young lad, barely the age of 20. Having lost my father in World War II, I still pressed on, striving not to die as he did so many years ago. I was engaged to a lovely woman named Clara, and we were both to be married in June. I was happily taking an innocent stroll to the local jeweler shop to buy Clara a suitable ring for our wedding. After lingering around until hours end, I finally settled on a stunning one of a kind diamond-shaped ring; I paid the jeweler and set off.    

          That fateful night, I stood beside her on our balcony, both staring out into the endless majestic night sky studded with brilliantly shinning stars. Heart pounding drastically within my chest, I apprehensively took Clara’s hand in mine. She turned her head of golden curls to face me as I smiled tenderly. “Clara,” I started.

          But at that very moment, I stopped. For the look in her eyes was not what I expected. They glistened with unshed tears, but not of happiness. They pulled on my fragile heartstrings and I held her hand with bated breath, not knowing what to expect. “Fred,” she began. “I, I can’t see you anymore…”

          Those words. They still haunt me until no end even to this day, 10 years later. That terrible feeling of a wound that cannot be healed still lingers in my defunct heart ever since that day. “I wish to become famous,” she had said. “I want to pursue my dreams. I’m sorry Fred, but you’re just holding me back.” Holding her back! How could she do that to me when I had stood by her all those years, just waiting for the day when she would return my growing affections. My thoughts were rudely interrupted and I glanced about, wondering what had disturbed me.

          I looked down distastefully on a pitiful old man timidly tugging on the hem of my coat. His clothes filled my nostrils with such a terrible smell that made me feel faint as if he hadn’t washed for months and his face resembled that of a chimpanzee! “Please sir, have mercy and give me some money,” his voice was raspy and sere, his beady eyes staring pathetically into my own icy ebony ones. I snorted with disgust and wrenched my coat out of his grasp harshly. His fingers seceded from them, long and old.

          “Persuade another man. I am done,” and with that, I left that sidewalk and crossed over to the other side, away from the wrinkly old man. I could feel eyes boring into my back but I didn’t care a bit. I was a loner, someone no one even took a glance at. I was just another face in the crowd. Altruism was nothing but a distant stranger locked somewhere secluded from me. What good was life? We will all die eventually! Even if I do get singled out, someone will just break my heart again and I have endured enough pain. Virtue has not been poignant as to rueful people for I am one of them. I had been infatuated, but no more. I cannot handle this world. Perhaps one day, I shall find peace in the other.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 "