Author: JesusWalkedOnWater PM
Skylar Jackson's broken. She is the only survivor of a fire that killed all of her family members. The police believe she started the fire out of anger at her mother. Innocent, Skylar runs. She comes across a group of teens who gracefully take her in as she struggles to find answers not only about the fire but about God, too. Contains ALOT of church and Jesus. Athiests-don't read.Rated: Fiction T - English - Romance/Tragedy - Chapters: 32 - Words: 59,918 - Reviews: 72 - Favs: 8 - Follows: 11 - Updated: 11-17-12 - Published: 06-22-12 - Status: Complete - id: 3034844
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
In one moment everything changed.
All my sins were washed away
When mercy found me!
Nilla Fayer POV-
My eyes opened and I heard the heart monitor beep-beep-beep. "Eyes open!" Someone shouted. I just lay there, feeling nothing. I saw them-the doctors and nurses-fidgeting around the operating room doing things with needles, medicine, and other things I did not know the name of.
As they slowly stopped, their shouting voices slowly turned into small murmurs of unbelief.
"He's fine…his stomach is barely bleeding anymore." I heard one lady say.
"I know. He shouldn't even be awake by now. He could be dead by this point." A man replied. They both looked at me and met my eyes. They hurriedly looked away before anything else.
In that one moment, I understood. I was alive. It was a miracle that I wasn't in any cringing pain or even still bleeding. Jesus had saved me. I was in pure shock. I quickly closed my eyes and prayed, prayed harder than I ever had in my life.
Thank You. Thank You so much. You have saved my life and my soul. You showed me the Light. You saved me from hell. You loved me even when I didn't love You. Forever, I will be grateful and try to make You known to everyone I see. You are awesome, Jesus, and I pray You can help me to know this every day. Thank You for forgiving me and giving me another chance, even though I've had plenty. I pray I can be a light in the world for You, Jesus, and I pray the same for everyone around me. I pray that You can touch my heart and keep me close and safe by Your side, Jesus. I love You so…so much, Jesus. Thank You. Amen.
When I opened my eyes, I was alone. Surprised, I called out. "Hello?"
An old man walked into the room. He donned a white doctor's coat, gray pants, and some black, shiny shoes. His military-style, flash of white hair stood straight up on his head so he looked like a retired general. His eyes were a color somewhere in between a sky blue and a stormy gray but they were magnified behind a pair of square-like glasses. The wrinkles in his face were too numerous to count but that did not dismiss his kind face. "What's your name, son?" His voice wasn't like I expected. Instead of crackly and withered, it sounded smooth and controlled. Very deep. My eyes flicked to his name tag. Dr. Vixen.
"Nill-…I mean, Dean Fayer." I decided to go with my real name. "But most people call me Nilla because of my hair." I flashed a quick smile.
"Well, Dean." The doctor picked up a clipboard that was sitting on a nearby table. He leaned against the bed and looked me in the eye. He took off his big glasses. "Do you feel any pain?"
"Do you have any trouble sitting up?"
I slowly sat upward. A small bit of pain coursed through me, trailing up my spine. "It hurts a little." I cringed.
He asked me a more questions and finally put his glasses back on and marked many things down. As he did, he spoke.
"You're a very lucky young man, Dean. The chances of you surviving were a thousand to one. We almost gave up."
"Nah, I'm not lucky. I'm just saved. God, blessed me and had mercy on me." The words sounded alien in my mouth but I didn't want to take them back.
The man looked up at me and I saw a peaceful happiness in his irises. I smiled and he looked back down, grinning. "I'm glad to hear that." Another silence descended upon us like a storm cloud.
"What is the last thing you remember before you blacked out?" He questioned, randomly as he finished writing on his clipboard.
I thought for a moment. "The last thing I remembered was seeing my friend, Dig Martin, speaking to me." My voice got quieter as the memories came more quickly. "My friends, are they still here?" I asked.
"I believe so. Why?" Dr. Vixen wondered, standing up straighter.
"I would like to see them." I sat up and felt a twinge of pain in my abdomen but ignored it.
"You can't." Vixen stated simply.
"Why not?" I demanded.
"Because he's being interrogated, along with the others."
That simple sentence made my world go fuzzy for a moment. "Why are they being interrogated?"
"Well, from what I've been told. One of your friends was taken by someone while you were in the emergency room." He filled me in on everything and I wanted to faint right then and there.
My heart dropped somewhere in my stomach and lolled around as it grew colder. The blood vanished from my face. My hands got clammy, my throat swelled, and I felt different emotions taking over. I tried to move my legs. They didn't obey. I tried again but I felt resistance. "Why can't I move my legs?" My voice was deadly quiet.
The doctor was quiet.
"Doctor, why can't I move my legs?" My voice was louder, panicky.
"When we did the operation, we saw where the bullet hit. It grazed a nerve that enables you to walk, run, and do other things. That nerve tore."
"And that means…?" I asked, even though I already knew the answer.
"You may never walk again."
As one of the nurses helped me settle into my wheelchair, I felt tears of pride overcome me. God pitied me. He saved me. And that's all I should ever ask of him. I said another prayer of thanks, this one shorter. Dr. Vixen looked at me with his mouth agape as I prayed aloud. When I finished, he spoke. "Son, you have the strongest faith I've seen in years. Something like that comes once in a lifetime. Once in a million people. I pray you'll cherish that faith and never let it go." The old man smiled at me as I rolled away. He had decided to let me go see my friends, even though I wasn't supposed to move from my bed.
I rolled to the elevator alone and clicked the third floor number. Vixen had also given me the floor and door to where my friends were. I propelled myself to the door. 3B. As I rolled closer to the door, a man sitting outside in a chair, rose to meet me. He was a little over six feet with black hair, a pale complexion, and a permanent scowl. "Hey." I greeted.
He grunted in response.
"May I please go in there?" I asked as politely as I could manage.
"The password is: Plastic Ducky."
The man looked surprised as he opened the door for me. I nodded and wheeled right on in.
I saw everyone gathered in one group over near the wall. I took in their sad faces and saw who was grieving the most. but my attention was diverted from them for a moment as another man was sitting down and speaking to them.
The man was obviously Hispanic. The police badge on his shirt stood out like a fly in a glass of milk. I rolled my eyes. He was here because of his job, not because Skylar was in trouble. I took a deep breath and saw they hadn't noticed me yet. I was relieved, at least they wouldn't know I was handicapped yet. I focused on what the man was saying.
"I know you don't wanna hear it-" The Hispanic man began.
"Oh, don't even start." I interrupted.
Immediately, all eyes were on me and I noticed for the first time that Doemic was absent. Mia gave a squeal or surprise and Jean, along with Lee, ran to me. They hugged me tight and cried. I hugged them back as the guys joined out circle. Except for Dig. He stood and came forward a few feet but didn't come in for a hug, unsure. I motioned for him to 'come here'. He smiled and hugged me. As the gang fussed over me, they finally took notice of my wheelchair. No one spoke about it, though.
"Nills, we were so worried. We didn't know anything or what was going on. And then..." Dig trailed off as the subject came to Skylar.
"Where is she?" I muttered quietly.
Dig only shook his head. "Richard."
I turned to the Hispanic man. "Who are you? What do you want?"
"Detective Javier Gutierrez for the Atlanta Police Department. I want to find Skylar Jackson."
"No you don't." I said. "All you want is to go home to you home and your perfect llittle home and your perfect little family and forget that a fourteen-year-old girl is being murdered by a pysco!" I exclaimed. "So, you just get someone to find her and don't talk to me until you do!"
The detective only sighed. The radio on his waistband crackled with static. "We've found her." Someone from the other end of the line said. I snatched the walkie-talkie from his belt and wheeled away from him before anyone could stop me.
"Is she okay?" I growled into the radio.
"...well, she's critical. We're strapping her into the ambulance right now. Who is this?"
"Not important. Here's Detective Javier." I shoved the radio at the detective and said, "Adios!" before wheeling myself out of there as quickly as possible, the gang right behind me.
…I don't think I can really comment on this chapter and I'm not gonna ask any of the gang what they think, either.
Tell me what you think about it. I'll have the next one up SOON! REVIEW! I need them!