The Power of Good and the Poison of Evil

My dad was dead and I blamed myself, but life continued. My mum, bless her heart, was a pillar of strength. Her concern for me kept her going. I was trapped in a deep depression. My friends tried to help me, babysitting me for a while, but eventually they gave up and avoided me. I was relieved when they did. I didn’t want to talk to anyone.

A year passed and my depression lifted, or maybe I’d just become accustomed to it. A dark cloud distorted my vision. When I was alone my mind took me to dark and disturbing places. Although there was no sign of the Angel of Death, she was on my mind constantly. I became a hermit, a bottle of wine at home (a little too often) was the only company I needed. It was on one of my regular trips to the liquor store that I bumped in to Reverend Laybourn, our local Vicar. I hadn’t seen him since the funeral.

“Lucy it’s good to see you,” he said. He wasn’t looking at me as he spoke, but focused on something behind me, and then looked above my head. I guiltily clutched the liter of wine I’d just bought, wishing I could hide it from view. Was he judging me for drinking? Were his eyes raised above my head in prayer? “It’s good to see  you too. I’m having friends around for dinner, I must hurry,” I said, eager to explain the wine, and wanting to get home and drink it.

He looked at me and smiled, but with obvious concern. “You don’t need to explain why you are drinking. You’re troubled, I can see that. Drinking isn’t the answer though.” He focused on something behind me again. “Your mum asked me to talk to you, how about tonight?”

“I have friends coming around for….” I began.

“I don’t think you do. I’ll share a glass of wine with you.” he said. Reverend Laybourn had known me for ten years or more, he’d visited us often. Life was like that in a small village. He’d helped me through my teenage years, often popping round for tea and scones, sometimes just after my mum took the scones out of the oven. I often wondered if he could smell them from the church, which was at the back of our house. He was a good man.

The Reverend’s piercing blue eyes looked directly into mine. “Lucy, I can see whats troubling you. You must rid yourself of the evil that clings to you before it poisons your soul.”

The pressure on my chest was intense, squeezing the air from my lungs. I was suddenly very angry. Why is this stupid man of God interfering with my life. I don’t want or need him. He is going to spoil everything. 

I gasped for breath, my thoughts scared me. Where did they come from? Beside me Reverend Laybourn’s lips moved in silent prayer.

I have so many stories to write I’m not sure I have enough time left in my life to write them. My book Dead of July, is currently available on Amazon. Not sure if ‘Dark Angel’ will ever make its way into a book, but it’s fun for me to blog. Enjoy!

http://amzn.to/1aXh4Md

Dead of July by Sandra Thompson

 

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s