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Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1601919-Sheperd
by Nayr
Rated: · Chapter · Other · #1601919
The prologue of my book in progress, prologue and first chapter.
Prologue

Ernest stood, frozen in fear in the sunless, cheerless basement. He heard what seemed like a devil skittering throughout the basement. Even a “simple task” like loading the laundry was toilsome to Ernest, when there were such things as beasts, devils, and serpents in the lonely “prison.” Moving leisurely along the cement in the “downstairs hell”, Ernest finally stuffed the clothes in the washer, dreading when the washer turns off, he will yet again have to go to this “devilish place.” Hastily, he moved up the timbered steps, made from strong pine. Ernest was alleviated when he reached the glorious “heaven” of upstairs. He swiftly yanked open the cabinets which contained the cups, and proceeded to pour himself some Kool-Aid. Something about this wonderful drink made Ernest feel relieved of the demonic troubles he had faced in the basement. His mother came into the kitchen, washing her hands and smiling. She reached for the calendar, browsing over the many appointments, soccer games, football games, and parties. She gently said, “You know school starts in one week, now I know you won’t like it, but you have to go, Ernie.” Ernie put his hand on his forehead, adjusting his glasses, then almost excitedly said, “No, it might be better this year, since I’m going into junior high, and plus, I’m looking forward to play in the band.” At that his mother sighed, and walked out the door. That was the last time Ernest would see his mother, alive that is.
Psalm 23
As soon as Ernest heard the sudden slam outside, he knew something ruinous had happened. Quickly, nervously, he fled out the crimson colored door. Upon walking up to the now red spot on the cement, he found no remains of his obviously deceased mother. He thought someone ran over her on purpose, taking the evidence away, I will get my final retribution, soon. His father had left when he was only a toddler, and he knew nothing of his father’s existence. The now desolate, depressed teenager went into his room. Now being that no one would be here to pay the bills, it really wasn’t his room after all. If he had any neighbors he would tell them, but, alas, he had none. Only his ex-house, a driveway, and an old cemented basketball court were his ex-“neighborhood.” Fearing where he would live, who would look supervise him, who would provide for him, and most importantly, how he would get an education with all this chaos? The once happy, cheerful, and mostly well-behaved teen now was like a young cub without mama bear. A mama bear to tell him what to do, a mama bear to instruct him. Like a cub he would go wild, to fend for his own. Becoming barbaric would also mean, perhaps, that he would need to steal like a wild-man, kill like a wild-man, and live like a wild-man to make it through the days. His ultimate goal was to get revenge on the brutal, piece of trash that killed her. Dismally, he ravaged through his belongings that he would need, leaving the others so that others might get some joy out of them. Furiously and spiritlessly he gorged his belongings in his book-bag, every last shirt, pant, underwear, sock, and all his toiletries. His journey to find the killer would break ground now, and he would get the revenge he sought. Where to live he did not know, what to eat he did not know, but he knew God would protect him, for he packed his old leather-bound bible in his sack also. God would provide for him, protect him, and feed him. He knew this with all his hear. He then kneeled and prayed toward the heavens, saying, “God, why such a tragedy? You are cruel, I did not do anything! Why would a loving God like you do this?! I hate you! Please allow me to get my sinful revenge, even though I know it is wrong. Forgive me for saying, ‘I hate you’, but I am furious. Help me find food, water, and a shelter so I can live peacefully, and help someone to find me, perhaps to adopt me. For I remember, “The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures; he leadeth me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name’s sake. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me. Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever. God let this be true, because I love you. In Jesus’ name I pray, Amen.”
© Copyright 2009 Nayr (r.lane3 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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