A Broken Heart Won't Kill Ya
[Meant to be sung, folks - not precise meter...]
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James, over burdened with events, seeks some answe
The Journey - Forever and Always
Where Are The Answers to Why Me? by Begin Again
 Category:  General Fiction
  Posted: May 23, 2009      Views: 249
Prologue 1 2 3 4... 

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Begin Again is a resilient "senior citizen". Reinventing and restructuring her life has become almost common place for her.

I love music, books, and sitting by the water. Each of these activities brings a sense of life to me.

She is an accomplished script writer and is currently at the #11 spot on the rankings.

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Whipton, Illinois is a small, friendly little town nestled in the lush rolling hills of Illinois, not far from the Mississippi River. It is one of those non-descript towns that by the time you realize you are entering a speed zone you probably are already leaving the city limits. If you're lucky, the local law enforcement is sitting behind a desk with his feet up enjoying a cup of coffee, watching the latest episode of Law & Order; otherwise you are sure to find him hunkered down in his cruiser waiting for you and your heavy foot to enter his town. Mayor Tom G. Creighton's great granddad, Luther Creighton and a handful of founding fathers built the town in the late 1800's. As the story goes, Luther and his new bride, Megan received the deed to 75 acres of undeveloped land as a wedding present. They both had tired of the hustle and bustle of big city life in Chicago and without any hesitation; they packed up their belongings and went in search of their new home. Immediately, Luther and Megan fell in love with the beautiful surroundings and decided to build a bed and breakfast. They were positive that their friends would want to visit and relax in their new-found home. Visit they did, and some even decided to stay and build their own homes; thus the founding of Whipton, Illinois.

Whipton has not changed a great deal since those booming years. On a summer day if you drove through the town square, you could see a few old retirees gathered outside the barbershop, a young girl selling flowers outside of Carla's cafe and the sign in the American Legion Hall promoting the Friday night fish fry. Small homes boasting colorful flower boxes and white picket fences lined the streets. The people tending to their flourishing small town businesses would still have time for a "good morning" and a friendly smile. Whipton's cemetery sits on the outskirts of town. Generations after generation of families are buried there. All the gravesites are neatly manicured and flowers are respectfully placed in honor of loved ones.

Tonight everyone is snuggled up on his or her couch watching television and eating buttered popcorn. The little children are nestled against mom, trying to forget about the storm that is raging outside their windows. Bolts of lightning flash across the sky, followed by loud, booming thunder that shakes every windowpane in town. The rain is coming down in sheets. It is one of those nights when no one wants to be out on the streets. No one except James that is!

James is a young guy in his early twenties, medium length brown hair, average build and a nice smile. He works with his mom at their little cafe. Even though he has bigger dreams for his future, he understands that she depends on his help. After putting long hours in at the cafe, serving coffee and fried chicken dinners to the locals, James still finds time to hang out with his friends or carry home groceries for old Mrs. Taylor. When asked by any of the town locals, their first description of James would definitely include quiet, shy and a stay-at-home type of guy. James has a heart of gold and a romantic streak a mile wide. He is definitely a mixed bag of characteristics. You might find him and his friends gathered around the television, screaming unspeakable words of encouragement as their favorite wrestlers land crushing blows to their opponents. On the other hand, you could just as easily find him writing touching poems about life and love or spine tingling horror screenplays that send chills through the bravest critics. However, tonight, James is on a mission.

The black Chevy blazer moves through the town barely stopping for the stop signs. The rain is beating against the windshield, making it difficult to see the road. Engrossed with the mission at hand, James is unaware of the rain or the speed at which he is traveling. The car lurches around the corners and bounces off the curbs as if it was a roller coaster at the county fair. James's knuckles are white as he grips the steering wheel, not from fear of the storm though. As the car reaches the edge of town, he angrily turns the steering wheel and comes to a screeching halt at the cemetery gates. Slamming the car into park, he turns the switch off and throws open the car door. The beams of the headlights that were vaguely lighting up the tombstones click off and James, engulfed in darkness, is left standing in the torrents of rain. He reaches back into the car and quickly retrieves something from the seat. Sliding it into his jacket, he holds it tightly against his chest, protecting it from the rain. He hesitates as if he has forgotten why he is here. The pouring rain, the huge oak trees that stand guard over the graves, and the howling wind seem to have sprung off the pages of one of James' latest horror stories into the here and now. Pausing briefly, he tugs at his jacket, attempting to keep his precious cargo from being drenched by the blowing rain.

Approaching the cemetery gates, his anger overflows as he fiercely yanks on the gates, expecting them to swing open. As the heavy chain and lock clank against the metal gates; he realizes that the cemetery is closed. James refuses to stray from his mission and scales the cemetery wall. He wishes he had not skipped so many of those morning workouts as he struggles to reach the top without dropping anything. As he swings his leg over the top of the wall, he loses his balance, falling down to the rain soaked grass. Swearing under his breathe at his mud stained jeans, he staggers to his feet and begins walking through the cemetery, a man with a mission. His eyes dart back and forth, straining to read the names carved on the headstones.

A bolt of lightening crackles through the air, making the shadowy lettering on the headstones easier to read. James finds the one he has been searching for and drops to his knees at the gravesite. With tears streaming down his face, he removes the book from inside his jacket and violently throws it on the ground. Another bolt of lightening flashes through the sky, lighting the book up as if the title was blazoned in fire. James's coveted trophy that he has been clutching so tightly is the Holy Bible. His body is shaking fiercely, gasping for air.

Reaching into his jacket pocket, James finds a book of matches and strikes one, setting the pages of the bible on fire. The flickering flames sputter as the rain splashes against the pages as if outraged that James had done the unspeakable. Keeping with the eerie mood of the night, suddenly, the fire rekindles itself as if it has a life of its own. Still kneeling at the gravesite, he raises his face towards the sky, screaming to be heard over the thunder, "Is this what you want? Is it?" Struggling to his feet, his anger boils over as he shakes his fists at the sky. He screams once again, "Come on God. All powerful and mighty Lord of Saviors! Answer me, God damn it!"

Dropping to the ground, James loses any thread of control that he might have had. His breathing is coming in raspy gulps and he struggles for air. Trying to regain control over his trembling body, he wipes his face against the sleeve of his jacket, but the agony that he feels is too powerful to be brushed away so easily. The tears stream down his mud streaked face as if the floodgates have opened. His face turned toward the sky, oblivious to the pelting rain, his torturous voice cries out once again. "Why...why are you doing this to me?" Pounding the ground furiously, unaware of his bleeding knuckles, James once again tries to regain his composure. Almost in whimpering tones now, he pleads "Please God...just answer me...tell me where it all went wrong."

The book continues with The Cafe. We will provide a link to it when you review this below.

Author Notes
WE all make promises thinking that they will last forever, but life comes along and changes things without ever asking us, just expecting us to cope. This is a story about several characters and their journey to forever.
Pays one point and 2 member cents.

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