Ureeka!!!!

While reluctantly driving to work today and after a long night of emotional conversation with my mother, it dawned on me: Treat every moment like a picturesque opportunity that only gets one moment before it expires. Life is so short, and the further along in years I get and the further along I see my family and friends go I see the way time ages us. Each line another street we walked in our life, another lesson, another heartbreak, another chapters end. By the time we are ready to close our eyes for the last time, we should have a novel written upon our faces.

There was a time over this time I was gone, that I thought it was the last time I would be able to fall on my knees and pray. I remember the anger and the rage in his eyes. I remember the desolate orchard and the thoughts that sped through my head. What will my parents do? Will I be able to tell them I love them? Will I make away, will anyone hear me? Should I take a chance and run, should I stay and beg? Will he kill me, or will I get him first?
Its virtually impossible to reinvent the atmosphere, the wet grass, the folds of the orchard and the escape route I somehow winged. His only mistake was teaching me a thing or two about shotguns... I was able to get away.  I remember running through the rows of apple trees, ducking the branches, picking myself up, and trying to carry my legs and breathe at the same time. I remember asking myself while watching those stupid horror movies ' why don't you just run, is it that hard?', well, my question was answered that night. My legs felt like they were dragging anvils. With ever dip my knees buckled and I would struggle to my feet. I remember the thicket were I found grace and my guardian angel was obviously waiting for me. Something told me to hush my steps and calm my breathing. The first thing was that I need to relieve myself because the fear within me made my bladder weaker than an elders. I saw the moonlight breaking through the trees and expose an up-rooted tree. I wanted to hide behind a standing tree, but something told me, again, to go to the fallen tree. So, I laid down as quietly as I could and buried myself into the dirt where the tree met the ground---on the darkened side of-course. I clawed my hands into the wet dirt and flattened my body so if by chance he would walk through the thicket I would be one with the earth. "ashes to ashes, dust to dust", with my face down into the wet dirt I smelled the life the freedom in the soil. In my mind I quickly began reciting every pray to God that I remembered and watered the ground with my please. I heard his voice in the near-distance, taunting me, trying to cox me out. "Elizabeth... Cooome on, its me... I promise I was kidding." Kidding? Yes that was so funny, you know, starring down the barrel of that gun. All because I was three dollars short for that weeks rent. Its a scary thought to think that you will not be able to see "the light of day". The sun, it is such a blessing, and we forget to appreciate God's gifts. Our family, nuclear and out-stretched, they need to recognize that we only have one blood line. I feel like Tiny Tim this year. I wish Babcia was here, she would know what to do. She would give me the strength to bring our hearts together.