Valiant

    The air was nearly acidic, putrid from the stink of sickness and death. Eli coughed at the stench, ragged brown hair falling into his eyes as he did so. His chocolate eyes watered, and the Jewish boy, fourteen years of age, tried desperately to escape the fetor by covering his face with his hands, careful not to stab himself in the eye when the bus he was on jolted. To get injured right now would most certainly not do.

    The bus, crammed full with anxious Jews, jounced again as it hit either a rock or some misfortunate animal. Its unwilling content was thrown across what little room there was in the vehicle. Deep in the back, a poor soul moaned in pain. Eli’s throat clenched, but there was nothing he could do without getting trampled.

    In actuality, despite the impending terrors he was sure to witness in the near future, there was nothing at all for Eli to do, save stare out the window miserably and watch the grassy hills roll by. The boy had attempted to lead his fellow captive Jews in song, hoping to lift up praise to his God, but the Nazi guards had silenced him almost immediately. He’d resorted to praying quietly to himself, but it wasn’t quite the same, not in such a time when passion was so direly needed.

    All the same, Eli gazed forebodingly out the window and thanked God for sustaining him thus far. Perhaps he would survive the concentration camps; that is, assuming that he ever escaped. Sometimes it seemed as though the war would never end; or worse, that the detested and feared Hitler and his followers would win. If that were to happen, there would be no hope for Eli, or any Jew for that matter.

    The bus swerved abruptly, thrusting Eli’s face straight into the window. The Jew barely refrained from swearing and leaned back, rubbing his nose. The fear and apprehension were gradually boiling over into anger, and his throbbing face wasn’t helping matters.

    Sourly, Eli resumed his stare out the window, but to his surprise was met with a scene different than the previous. In a valley sunken before him, an immense, vast ghost town lurked, giving off an aura of despair.

    Color was fictitious in the concentration camp. From his bus’s perch atop a towering hill, Eli could see that every corner of his new home was washed over with a murky shade of brown or gray. People traveled only in groups, and their figures were slouched and hopeless.

    Despite the horrible sensation of desperation flooding his soul, the young Jew felt an eerie sense of grim determination that inspired him to firm his jaw and still his shivers. He knew that, though he may perish, his Father was on his side.

    As he neared the site of his impending doom, Eli felt valiant.



Hey, guys.
Long time no update. Heh.

Okay, I am SO sorry about my lack of posts as of recently. I know that there are no excuses and that this is something I committed my time to, but honestly, I don't know what to write about. It seems like, last year, I had inspiration after inspiration running through my mind. Now, my brain is like this: O. Empty. Like a doughnut.

Brave, Courageous, Valiant…Anyone else think there are too many things titled after heroic emotions?

Oh, and I do realize the ending is rushed. It's because my mind quit out on me mid-story. Will fix later.

Ciao!

Guardian Angel

    A heartwrenching scream echoed through the bustling hospital hall as a new life began its journey. The screech was quickly followed by a baby’s wails, and several nearby nurses cooed lovingly at the gorgeous newborn. He was a beauty; a rarity that surely possessed the blessing of God.

    The child’s mother, smiling and drenched in sweat, held out her arms weakly for her baby boy. She was rewarded with the squealing, wet child being placed gently on her lap. Her face the image of relief, the woman beamed through her tears as she blissfuly held the boy to her chest.

    Though no one knew it at the time, there was another presence in the room celebrating the birth of the child. His heavenly form was too holy to be viewed by those still bound to the world of the living, but as he wrapped his great, glowing, pearly white wings around his new undertaking, the guardian angel was as much a part of the room as if he had a mortal body.



    A slowly setting sun tinted the vast sky with a pale orange hue, washing the landscape below in gentle fall colors. Generous splashes of red, orange, yellow, and brown furnished the scenery with a warm, pleasant feel. Beneath the setting sun, a gaggle of children shrieked playfully as they frolicked amidst the fallen leaves.

    A young boy, his mousy brown hair harmonizing with the surrounding terrain, watched longingly from a distance. He swayed slightly on the lone swing on which he was perched. However much he wanted to join his peers in their games, he couldn’t muster the courage to ask. Rejection was too large a concern for the shy child.

    He tore his gaze away from his giggling confreres, accepting that he would be forced to entertain himself. Halfheartedly, the boy gave a feeble push on the swing, but the effort barely increased its dreary movement. The boy sighed.

    Unexpectedly, a pair of undersized hands that rather matched his own pressed themselves against the child’s back and gave a gentle shove. He jumped in surprise, whirling around as best he could in the confined space.

    A pair of crystal blue eyes, sparkling with playful mischievousness, met his gaze. “Want a push?” the newcomer queried, her voice light and welcoming.

    Bemused, the diminutive brunet nodded. “Please,” he added politely.

    The blue-eyed girl smiled, her golden hair framing her face alluringly. After complying with a careful thrust, she lapsed into an awkward silence.

    The boy decided that conversation was a promising idea. Unsure of another way to evoke discussion, he began, “Um, m-my name’s Elliot, by the way. I’m seven.”

    The other giggled. “I know that, silly! We’re in the same class at school. I’ve been trying to talk to you for a long time now, but you keep getting away before I can find you.”

    Well, that was news. Elliot hadn’t known that anyone was seeking him out; maybe his solitariness was self-induced. His surprise must have shown, because the girl frowned.

    “Why do you always sit by yourself? You seem so lonely…”

    Elliot blinked. “Really? Oh. I just don’t really know how to ask people if it’s okay to sit with them…”

    The blonde laughed. “That’s a silly reason. You just do this!”

    She went on to dodge around Elliot’s swing so that he could see her, and began to illustrate a one-person skit.

    “Hi there, Bob! Is it okay if I sit here? ‘Well of course Bob, why not?’ Oh I don’t know Bob, I wasn’t sure if you were saving this seat for someone else. ‘Don’t be silly, Bob! Sit down!’” She concluded the scene by collapsing to the ground in a fit of laughter.

    Elliot allowed a small smile and a chuckle. This girl was funny. Didn’t she say that she wanted to be friends with him? This could have a good outcome…

    “See? It’s easy! You just have to ask!” the girl chortled. Abruptly, however, her expression changed to one more somber. “Hey Elliot, do you promise that you won’t sit by yourself anymore? It’s weird, but for some reason I don’t like seeing you looking sad and lonely…”

    She was caring, too. The markings of a promising future friend. “Okay.”

    “Elliot?”

    “Yeah?”

    “My name’s Lizzie.”

    He extended a hand as he had seen his mother do when meeting a new person. “Nice to meet you, Lizzie.”

    The girl stared blankly at his hand. Afraid that he’d done something weird, the boy retracted it slightly. His actions were interrupted, however, when Lizzie pushed past his arm into a hug, a new bout of laughter gracing her lips.

    Elliot stiffened. He thought girls didn’t like touching boys! Didn’t they always protest that they had cooties? Evidently Lizzie was different. Hesitantly, he returned the embrace with a slight squeeze.

    “You’re silly, Elliot.”

    “Um, thanks?”

    Lizzie giggled. “You’re welcome.”


    Standing a few meters away, the boy’s guardian spirit watched contentedly. Though his appealing looks attracted the common eye, Elliot inexplicably remained under the impression that he was obliged to live a reclusive young life. He brushed introductions off as others simply being courteous, and had thus far not managed to retain any semblance of a strong friendship. The angel was beginning to worry for his child, but this new development showed promise. Perhaps Lizzie would be the friend Elliot desperately needed.

    Closing his colorless silver eyes, the angel lifted his hands and wings in prayer to his God. He begged the Father to care for His child, Elliot, and to provide him with the love he was in need of to grow spiritually and emotionally. The servant of God raised his and Elliot’s troubles to the Most Divine, and as he felt the prayer leave his being and journey toward God’s being. The angel knew that the Lord would hear his prayer; He had every time before, and he had full faith in his Master.

    “Help me to fulfill my duty to You and protect Your child, Elliot,” he pleaded quietly. “I am nothing without You, the same as the rest of Your creation. Give me the strength to serve You. Amen.”