Live Only Once

Chapter One

"Do you not know that your bodies are temples of the Holy Spirit, who is in you, whom you have received from God? You are not your own, you were brought at a price. Therefore, honor God with your bodies..." - Corinthians 6:19-20

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A young Faith Newman ran across the meadow, giggling. The girl was only six years old at the time. Her feet were bare. She loved the texture of the flowers and grass tickling her feet. She was clad in a little blue dress. Her hair was long and flowing, the color of brown autumn leaves. Glimmers of sunlight streaked down the lovely locks. Her eyes were sky blue with flecks of green and silver. She was holding a little flower as she ran up a grassy hill to her sister, older by four years, Grace. The child tripped on the ground as she reached her, still chuckling, but her sibling caught her delicate form.

"Gotcha!" Grace exclaimed playfully.

Faith laughed hysterically as her sister tickled her.

"Ah ha ha ha! STOP! Uncle, uncle!" The little girl screamed, begging for mercy.

Her big sister chuckled and released her.

"Okay. As you wish." She said and sighed.

The akin sisters laid in the grass and watched the blue sky. There were so many white, fluffy clouds that looked like you could just reach up and grab some to eat, only to realize they would melt in your mouth.

Faith gawked at the atmosphere above them.

Grace pointed at one.

"That one looks like angel wings." She said.

"Angel wings?" Faith repeated incredulously.

Grace said wisely."Yes. An angel is a messenger of God."

"Oh..." Faith said and looked down silently for a moment. Then she looked back up at her sister. "Do you believe in angels, sissy?"

Grace beamed serenely and nodded.

"I would have to say I do, sister." She said. "Do you?"

Faith picked at some grass and hummed.

A distant voice called.

"Faith! Grace!" It said.

The sisters looked up and beamed. It was their parents. They were at the bottom of a hill, waving their arms in greeting.

"Mama! Daddy!" Faith exclaimed back. She looked up at her sibling. "Nah. Let's go, sis." She said and eagerly stood up to greet her parents.

"Faith Newman." The robotic voice called out.

She awakened from the memory with a shudder.

"Ugh." She groaned as she slowly got up from her chair in the waiting room. Her bones tingled in agony from arthritis and the burden that was her own weight. The woman barely managed to trudge her way into the designated room, which was behind a door being held by a robot. It led to many hallways where her surgical procedure would begin.

Faith. She thought in her head, hatefully. She loathed the name. Why be called Faith if she didn't have any?

The old lady had no children. She had multiple husbands and multiple divorces. But she convinced herself that she was happy enough with all the money she made from modeling and fashion designing. Beauty was her life. But there she was, ninety eight years-old and decreased to a four foot eleven pile of ancient uselessness. Once, she was taller. Younger. Lovelier.

She couldn't stand waiting for death to come and looking like that. It was painful. She missed her smooth, moisturized skin and her petite five foot three form.