Sunday Sample- As I Live & Breathe She heard the latch on the - TopicsExpress



          

Sunday Sample- As I Live & Breathe She heard the latch on the door turning. Fear rumbled through her like fire. Her pulse quickened and pounded as blood rushed through her veins. Waves of dread rocked against her resolve. Exhaustion tried to cast its foggy shadow over her, but her spirit of self-preservation kicked in. Ready to do battle with whomever was coming in the room she squared up like her brother showed her. Her angel rushed into the room. “Natasha, someone is here to get you. A member of your family, I believe.” Natasha instantly knew who it was. She stepped around the woman that treated her so kindly and walked brazenly towards the massive venetian red door. “Where is he?” She asked. “Where is my brother? Wilson!” Her anguished cries lined the darkened hallway. The echo of her voice bounced off the old sheetrock like ping pong balls. She moved closer still to the door. Her hand found its way to her chest to keep her banging heart from leaping out of it. The sound of Natasha’s voice made the hairs on Wilson’s arms stand straight up like soldiers on the battlefield. He turned and headed down the dimly lit passageway. He noticed the only light provided was small bulb barely hanging from broken sockets. The old, rigid wooden floor buckled and cracked under his weight as he went deeper into the rapidly shrinking passageway. The closer he got to her voice, he had to turn sideways to get closer still. The walls appeared to be holding a deeply inhaled breath along with him. He stood in the doorway of the room that held his sister and a flood of emotions slammed him against the wall. The scent of his cologne had filled the air before he reached her. She looked into his face and her heart literally stopped beating. All of her prayers, all of her hopes, all of her dreams manifested in this one moment. The exquisiteness of seeing him caused her now stiff legs to unlock and move forward. Wilson staggered for a moment while walking into the room. Natasha was there. Right there, right in front of him. His heart hummed and beat like bongos playing in a mariachi band. She ran into his arms, crying and shaking. She released tears that kept cold in their ducts for the last few months. Natasha’s uncontrollable whimpering tore his heart and the hearts of those observing into tiny slivers. He grabbed her and held on tight for dear life. “Girl, I’m so glad to see you.” He said through broken sobs. “Oh, my God, it’s really you.” She squeezed him tighter, “Take me home, take me home please!” she pleaded with him, “Take me home!” Heartbroken, Wilson looked down at her. “Let’s… let’s go home.” They turned and walked down the dimly lit hallway. Natasha’s heart felt tied in knots. He felt her shaking as if she was a puppy soaked with a water hose. He held on to her tighter and spoke softly to her “Just put one foot in front of the other and soon we will be walking out the door. It is all right now. I got you.” He felt the tension rise by two decibels in the room. He tightened his grip knowing the only thing to separate them would be death. He again tightened his hold on her. “We got this Baby Girl. Just keep stepping. Just keep walking. You can do this. We’re going home.” As they reached the threshold of the door, he felt her pull back slightly. Momentarily, fear ran a rugged course through her. She felt a chilly wind move softly over her cold clammy skin. She exhaled sharply and closed her eyes even tighter. Her walking felt jerky and forced. She could feel a cobblestone like material under the thinly soled shoes they forced her to wear. She could feel every nuance, every cranny, every broken line in the driveway, but she kept walking. She heard the squeaking sound of a car door opening. She paused for a moment to listen to sounds. There was none. She wondered if it was night because of the eerie silence. “Duck your head down and get in the car.” He said to her. She quickly complied while still holding on to him. She opened her eyes. He slid in beside her and removed the covering from her head. Handing her a bottle of water, she licked her chapped, cracked lips and gulped it down. “Natasha, this is T.B, he is a friend, and he is going to get us home.” She looked up with a tear lined face and nodded her head. Leaning into her brother, Natasha wrapped her fist into his shirt stretching and pulling it into a knot. Listening, but not listening to what they were both saying. She was just glad to be going home. amazon/As-Live-Breathe-Cassandra-Durham-ebook/dp/B00NLJHJ60/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1411928903&sr=8-1&keywords=Cassandra+Durham
Posted on: Sun, 28 Sep 2014 18:33:25 +0000

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