Rather then reposting the revision of what I wrote previously, I have decided to make this article sticky for a few days. I made the revision in April but didn't get the time to post it. ** Please see highlighted for the revision made on 4/18/2011.

 

I have also written the fourth chapter on 4/18/2011 but didn't post it because I was not pleased with what I wrote. However, I didn't have time to tweak it, so I might post what I wrote so far when I have time.

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I am getting tired of writing this story. In fact, I hate writing stories. This is all I have in the time being as time permits. I hope to see the end of the tunnel soon. However, if you cannot find the ending soon, it might be because I am having trouble concluding the plots.

 

By the way, my son is currently reading “The Lost Hero” in the series “The Heroes of Olympus” and “The Lightning Thief” in the series “Percy Jackson & the Olympians” written by Rick Riordan. They were based on Greek and Roman mythology. I find it interesting the way the chapters were named, so I am going to follow suit.

 

A Fictional Story A Glimpse of the Past (Continued)

Written by Elisa English, all rights reserved

Started on 1/29/2011 in Minneapolis.

Edited on 2/6/2011, 2/12/2011, 2/18/2011 , 3/7/2011 & 4/18/2011 in Minneapolis.

Revised on 2/14/2012 in Minneapolis.

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Chapter 3: George

Not a moment fled had George not thought of running away, away from his foreordained future dictated by his father. He was then a young man, at the age of twenty, still too naive and ignorant to make judicious decision, let alone thinking of the impact which his actions would place upon the people he left behind. On the day he set sail for freedom, he bid his last farewell to his sister.  His action eluded her; she expressed bewilderment, unable to envisage the meaning.  Her befuddlement later turned into lamentations, so gravely that wrung his soul.  Hidden within her was an undercurrent of longing for love so strong that he couldn’t help but tell her in a tone of empathy and compunction that his departure would be a short one. As he quitted the room, he found her breaking into smothered sobs.

 

Until then, George could still hear her lugubrious plea for him to stay.

For years, his soul was in this torment of contrition, so acute that he, in whose mind, whenever darkness encroached, every thought of his was superseded by his guilt for leaving behind his little sister who looked upon him and adored him greatly. Still his own selfishness had overpowered his never-ending guilt for the betrayal of her trust and had prevented him from setting foot in his motherland for over twenty years until he heard of the dreadful news.

 

All the haunting images flashed before him, his sister’s piteous cry for help and his cruelty leaving her behind which might have driven her into this deathlike stupor. In his mind a feeling of impending doom surfaced. Filled with penitence and disquietude, George frenziedly hastened to stay beside her. In this remote island preserved with natural beauty, his anxiety grew greater every moment for the inadequate means of transportation. When he finally reached her, tears of repentance were not enough to prevent her life from slipping away. All her woes and sufferings seemed to have come to a stop as she lay there motionless.

 

His mind went astray. Had he been running away from home for too long? He questioned if things would have been different had he been with her all along. His regret for his selfishness and cowardliness deepened. How could he have forgotten the look of sorrow in her eyes so gravely that wrung his soul and the sweet little hands that clung so tight to his legs! Maybe there was still hope to get her out of this condition as he held her hands, feeling as if those sweet little hands were again clinging to his legs.

Next to her bedside stood their parents; he could see worries plastered all over their faces. His unshakeable father seemed to have fallen into pieces. George almost felt sorry for them, seeing how they had aged and the ordeal they had to live through. However, his deep-seated animosity against his parents returned when truth revealed on what might have propelled his sister to this state.

 

Time passed as she lay there unconscious, just like the dusky room and the morose atmosphere, all so gloomy. Why did they have to meet under such circumstances as had intensified his guilt of his previous departure? Mortified by his conscience, he felt tormented, no longer able to escape.

 

How agitated he felt to have to leave her again, this time to Indonesia! He hoped that the damage wasn’t irreversible and that there was still time to mend her heart.

  

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Written by Elisa English, all rights reserved

 

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