Life can take you in a direction you don’t want to go. You feel you have no purpose.

Then the unexpected happens and you know what you must do. This was the case for . . .

Edward

     A bitter wind whistled through the bare branches of the oak trees lining a desolate street in a downtrodden section of Ember Woods. A young man looked out his window into the dark night and quivered at the thought of his bleak existence. At twenty-two, he stood alone in a world that rejected him and sent him spiraling into despair.

     He bit his lip in frustration and wanted to scream and let all know of his tortured soul. But who would listen? Who cared about a nobody just drifting along going nowhere? Trembling, tears flowed from his dark, sad eyes. Then the light in the room flickered and everything went black.

     Overwhelmed, he stood frozen in place, powerless to escape the darkness that befell him and the tragedy of his life. Contemplating ending it all, he held his breath, hoping to lose consciousness and disappear. Yes, disappear and never again see the light of day.

     But this was not his time. A reemergence of light created a faint glow from which he could not escape. Deep down, he did have hope. If only he could muster the courage to reach within and bring it to the surface. If, yes if? He did not want to die, but the alternative seemed to be a mountain he dared not climb for fear when he reached its peak, he still would not have escaped from the hole into which he had fallen.

     The young man turned away from the window. His eyes fell on the room that mirrored his existence—a pathetic setting furnished with rummage sale rejects. A desk, composed of unpainted splintered wood, sat to the right of the window. An old, faded beige wooden chair to the left of the desk provided the only seat in the sparsely furnished room. A twin bed, with a tattered multicolored quilt thrown over its body, rested across from the desk. A discolored ceiling light fixture dangled on a rusted chain and provided the only light for the room.  

     He walked toward the mirror that hung askew on the wall next to the bed and stared at the creature reflecting back at him. What he saw frightened him. The image, clad in an old faded gray shirt and stained blue trousers, looked forlorn. Its brown scuffed shoes covered its large feet. Its black hair flew every which way, as if blowing in a wind tunnel. Its eyes, misted over, looked vacant, and its face exhibited a painful, grim expression.

     “What am I here for?” he murmured. “I have no purpose.” He bowed his head in shame. Shame for the mess he had made of his life. Confused, he shook his head and wept. Nothing had gone right. He had wandered off the path into a wilderness from which there was no return. He had no family. His friends could not handle his moodiness and the deep depression that seemed to engulf him.

     As his world grew dimmer, there was a knock on the door. ”Go away!” he screamed. “I do not need your help. I do not want your pity. Just go away. Leave me alone. My life is over. My time has come. Just let me go.” Another rap on the door jarred him back to the reality of the moment.

     He dragged his tired, aching body to the door and reluctantly turned the knob. He pulled it toward him and looked into the pleading eyes of a young boy—a boy who looked much like he did at age twelve—lost and alone. He extended his hand and the boy grasped it in a way that sent chills through his body.

     “Please help me,” the child whimpered. “I am your younger brother, Charley.” Edward pulled his handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the tears from the lad’s eyes. He ushered him in and sat him down on the rickety chair and knelt before him. A bright light illuminated the room, for now he knew what his purpose was and what he had to do. He could not let this child—his brother—lose his way, as he had done ten years earlier. He had been given a second chance to avoid the mistakes of his past.

Copyright © 2016 Alan Lowe. All rights reserved.