There was something about being at sea, that was nothing like he had ever felt before. Was it freedom? He didn’t really trust his adoptive parents, but at least they had a yacht. As he stood on the deck watching the shoreline disappear, the normal heaviness he felt was somehow lifted.
He stood there for hours soaking it in – it was freedom. Even though they had been talking to him for months about forgiving his real parents, none of it concerned him – until now. Feeling safe, and free, he considered forgiving for the first time. How could he feel such hate, being only 15?
The truth was his mother was more of an embarrassment than anything else, not being able to kick her drug habit. His father? Would he ever be able to forgive him for the beatings? It didn’t seem possible.
The three of them ate lunch on deck, making small talk. He didn’t hate these two silver haired saints that adopted him, and he was grateful. His new Dad was the only kind man he had ever met.
Maybe because of his new Dad being an English teacher, he thought about writing. He thought of stories, of oceans and pirates. The world began to open up to him for the first time. A light came on.
He went below deck after that, found a notebook and a pen. He started writing a short story, and then some poems. His spirit really began flowing.
And that is how this young warrior was born. He decided he would fight……with a pen. And yes a tear fell, as he learned how to forgive.
Note: This is fiction.
Writing and Image © Copyright 2016, ancient skies
Peace and blessings to everyone.
“When we love people, we give them hope.”