The Lesson (Part One)

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 Hello everyone!

 Sorry it's so short, the next one will be up ASAP! Remember I need this done by Wednesday!

  WATTY AWARDS SOON! SO VOTE, COMMENT, AND RECOMMEND TO YOUR FRIENDS LIKE CRAZY!!!  

 Hope you like it!  

 With Love,

 ~Lillian  

 <3  

"Elijah was afraid and ran for his life...He came to a broom tree, sat down under it and prayed that he might die. 'I have had enough, Lord.' he said. 'Take my life; I an no better than my ancestors.'"

1 Kings 19:3a," 4b

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    Run.

   Run.  

 The adrenaline spread like wild-fire from my kidneys and throughout my body. I was in severe panic again. My eyes stung as I tried to contain the salty tears, hot as magma.

  Run!  

 Run!

  But what from?

 My past?

My family?

My mistakes?  

The truth?  

 Owen's voice cried my name down the hall and the thud of military boots was not too far behind me. I looked over my shoulder and he was there, and Johnny was at the door way, watching his older brother make the mistake of chasing me down instead of letting me find sanctuary.

How does he always know what's best for me? Letting me run while Owen chases me down...

  I ran across the courtyard, pushing through the crowd of hundreds of training soldiers. I eventually reached the other side of the large square and wondered down many halls untill I closed myself in an empty bedroom, with no light or windows.  

 I then calmly strolled across the empty room, just staring at the blank, white wall before me.

I can't believe she knows. Someone probably told her in Boston. I'll never be able to fight in the Rebellion again. I'll be kicked out- forever.  

Hot, steamy tears formed on my bottom eye lashes. I suddenly gasped as I felt the little drop of water fall down my cheek and descend to the floor.

  I buckled and collaped to the wood beneath me. Like a baby, I wailed and wept, bringing my knees to my chest.  

 I am so weak! I yelled at my self mentally. All I ever do is cry like a big baby! I cried this morning too! Every single time something goes wrong, I break down.

What kind of Warrior is that? How can I, a selfish, crying baby, claim to be the courageous and amazing Rebel, the Rebellion's main operative? I am a spineless fool!

I can't believe I am crying again! While I pretend to be this strong, courageous woman- I am really just a cowardly child!  

 I pressed my wet cheek against the cold floor as sweat dampened my hair. I kept weeping more and more and I couldn't stop.

 I am just so weak- I am not good enough for this!  

 "God... My Father! Jesus! Help me! I can't do this! I know You want me to, but I can't!" I angrily pounded my fist against the floor.

 But who was I mad at? Myself? God? Why was I so frustrated? Because God chose me? Or because I wan't good enough for what God chose me to do?

  "Take this cup from me, Father! End my life! I am no better than my father or my family! I am no better than..."  

 Then I stopped speaking.    

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  Did you guess like it? I hope you did.  

  So remember Watty Awards this Wednesday! Go crazy will your voting and commenting and recommending!  

  I really hope my book has spoken you you guys!  

  Updating soon!    

 Thank you guys so much!  

  Love you!

    Remember, God is there!  

  God bless!  

  With love,    

   ~Lillian 

  <3  

    ******

The Rebel ~ {FINALIST} WATTY AWARDS 2011~ completedWhere stories live. Discover now