Blessings and Curses

A story inspired by a dream.

               The two burly men bodily threw the boy into the bleary dungeon cell, laughing scornfully as he crumpled onto the unforgiving stone floor. The boy shook feverishly and dry-heaved on the floor, but nothing but a small drop of blood escaped his mouth; he hadn’t been given any food or water for the past twenty-four hours. The people that had captured him had worked him to the bone before they took him to a small room where they had tortured him mercilessly. And then, once they were done, they worked him again while torturing him at the same time; all for a crime that he didn’t commit.

                The men laughed again at the boy’s pathetic state and then walked away, their heavy boots echoing on the stony ground. Once their footsteps had receded, the boy could hear the breathing of something else in his cell. Fearing the worst, he struggled to lift his head so he could see what else occupied his cell. With an immense amount of effort, he finally managed to get his head a few inches off the ground. What he saw hurt him worse than the gashes and bruises and broken bones all over his body.

                A girl was laying in a corner a few feet away, her back towards the boy. One of her arms rested above her head, her hand open limply. The bright finger-nail polish that she usually kept so immaculate was chipped and tattered just like her nails. Her black ponytail was ragged and filthy, and her clothes were torn and soiled in several places. She lay so still that the boy would’ve thought she were dead if it weren’t for the steady rhythm of her breathing.

                Tears filled in the boys eyes as he saw her there, and he started dragging himself towards her, ignoring the excruciating pain and the fact that he had next to no strength in his limbs. Those few feet seemed like the longest distance he had ever had to travel in all of his fifteen years. Finally, he just collapsed to the ground, unable to go any farther.  He stretched his arm out, reaching for her hand, but he fell short by a few inches. He strained with all his might, crying in frustration as he tried to reach her fingers, but it was no use. His arm fell back to the ground and he sobbed at the injustice of it all. Only a few meager inches stood between him and his best friend, and it was physically impossible for him to close the gap.

                Through his sobs he sensed some movement coming from the girl next to him. He blinked the blurring tears from his eyes and saw that her hand had moved ever-so-slightly closer to him. He reached out again and caught hold of her hand, gripping it with what little strength he had left.

                “Sierra.” He croaked, his voice ragged and thin.

                The girl stirred slightly at the sound of her name, and then she stiffened when she felt someone’s hand in her own. She turned over, and then relaxed slightly when she noticed who was holding her hand. However, when she noticed the condition the boy was in, she stiffened again in horror.

                “Dalen!” she cried weakly “Dalen, what happened? What did they do to you?” She wanted to scream, but she didn’t have the strength to. She felt so guilty that she could hardly breathe. She had been captured a few days ago and used as bait to bring Dalen here. It was her fault that he was in this horrible state.

                Dalen grimaced as a wave of pain swept through him, and he dry-heaved again, turning his head away from Sierra so she wouldn’t have to see. Sierra began to sob at his terrible condition, and she gripped his hand as if it were her life-line in a raging ocean. She wished she could help him, but she didn’t know what to do.

                When his heaving subsided, Dalen turned back to her. “Sierra, I… I’m sorry that you got dragged into this.” He said feebly. His hand tightened around hers “Are you okay?”

                “Me? What about you?” Sierra managed to squeak.

                "I... I'm fine." Dalen choked out.

                "No Dalen, you're not fine." Sierra protested sternly. "You're hurt. Let me take a look at you." She reached out a hand towards his face.

                He flinched and turned away from her, releasing her hand in the process.

                "Sierra, don't" He whispered. "I don't want anything else to happen to you. You and I both know that I'm a... a curse. The way he said it plainly showed that the words were bitter in his mouth.

                Sierra didn’t say anything. Instead, she just turned Dalen over and wrapped her arms around her friend and life-time crush, holding on with all the strength she could muster. She could feel Dalen’s muscles tense in surprise, but then he relaxed and slowly, tentatively, his arms wrapped around her too. She kissed him on the cheek.

                “You will never be a curse.” She whispered in his ear “Remember all those times that you were there for me? Like when I fell off my bike, or lost my dog, or when I had to get my tonsils out? Do you remember when my mom died?” She looked up at him and saw that he was fighting back more tears. She continued, “I remember that you were the one that picked me up off the sidewalk, you were the one that walked ten miles to my house after you found my dog. You were the one that brought me ice-cream and apple sauce, and you were the one that cried with me at my mom’s funeral.” Tears were falling down her own face again, and she drove her point home “That doesn’t sound like a curse to me, the sounds more like a blessing.”

                Dalen’s embrace tightened around her, and he buried his face in her dirty hair. “Thank you, Sierra.” He whispered to her.

                “For what?”

                He pulled back and looked her in the eyes “For being my blessing.”

                Sierra smiled through her tears and hugged him tighter. She could hear his labored breathing and felt some of his blood trickle onto her fingers, and it sent pangs of sorrow through her body. He was too young to be going through anything like this. He was only fifteen, for goodness sake! She didn’t know how anyone could be so cruel as to hurt someone so young.

                Despite her anxiety, Sierra fell asleep as Dalen continued to hug her. She dreamt of her and Dalen together, happily engaged and getting ready for their wedding. She would go crazy with the preparations during the day,- picking out gowns, getting the colors decided, buying floral arrangements, etc. -but at night she and Dalen would just sit together in blissful companionship until the big day. The precious fairy-tale moments brought a smile to Sierra’s face.

                She and Dalen were just about to kiss as newly-wed husband and wife, when the cell door crashed open. Her eyes snapped open as two men marched in, smelling nauseatingly of beer. Sierra tightened her grip on Dalen, and he did the same, but the two men still managed to roughly pull them apart. The man who held Sierra discarded her on the other side of the cell and then went to go restrain Dalen, who was writhing in his captor’s grip.

                Dalen found the strength to kick the new-comer in the face, and then he head-butted the other one. They both roared in fury, and they dropped Dalen on the floor. They fell upon him in a drunken rage, their fists landing on every inch of his body with sickening thuds.

                “Please, stop!!!!!” Sierra screamed “Stop!! You’re killing him!!!!!”

                When their anger was finally satisfied, the two men stood up from their prey, examining their handy-work. Wracking sobs were wrenched out of Sierra’s throat when she saw Dalen’s prone form lying on the ground. His entire body was completely battered, and she could already see new swelling and bruises appearing on his skin. Several cuts in various sizes were scattered across his body, and he wasn’t moving.

                She started crawling towards him on hands and knees, not having the strength to walk, but one of the men noticed her and kicked her savagely in the stomach. She gasped in pain and curled up in a ball on the floor while she tried to regain her breath. The man scoffed and kicked her again for good measure before re-joining his companion.

                Together, they yanked Dalen off the ground. He hung limply between them, his head lolling to one side.

                “Come one sleeping beauty,” one of the men grunted “Time to wake up.” He swung a punch at Dalen’s face, and Sierra heard the sickening crack as his nose broke. She started sobbing again at the men’s cruelty as Dalen’s head was thrown back from the punch. He groaned feebly but didn’t open his eyes.

                The man cocked his fist, preparing to throw another punch, when his companion stopped him.

                “Don’t worry about it right now.” He said “We can wake him up when we get there.”

                Reluctantly, the other man lowered his fist.

                “What are you going to do to him?” Sierra asked in a terrified voice.

                One of the men smirked at her “Nothing you need to hear about, little missy. We don’t want to give you nightmares.” The two laughed malevolently and then marched out of the cell, dragging Dalen limply between them. They shut the cell door behind them with a bang.

                Sierra sobbed like she never had before, her entire body shaking as she bled her heart out. They had taken her best friend away, and she hadn’t been able to do anything about it. Reality was so much different from the fantasies she was always dreaming about. In day-dreams, nobody ever really got hurt, they just bled a little and then there was some magic potion or spell that made everything better. But here, in reality, everything was very, very, real. Sierra had no magical powers or potions that would help her and Dalen get out of this mess, it was just little ol’, plain, completely un-extraordinary her; completely alone and helpless.

                As she lay there and cried, she remembered something that she had been taught ever since she was little. You are never alone.

                Trying to calm her sobs, she slowly knelt down on her knees. She folded her arms and bowed her head, closing her eyes in terrified prayer.

                Please, dear Father in Heaven! She cried tearfully I don’t know what to do! Dalen might be beaten to death and I might die here too. I’m scared. Please, if thou art truly there, please help us that we will be safe. Please help us get out of here alive!

                She repeated her prayer over and over again, not entirely sure how long it would take for it to reach heaven. Suddenly, in the midst of her repetition, she realized that she was being selfish. She sounded more worried about herself in the prayer than she was about Dalen.

                She took a deep breath to calm her fluttering heart. Dalen was there for me she thought Now I’m going to be there for him. Her tears dried up at her determination, and she calmly revised her prayer.

                Father, which art in heaven, please forgive me of my selfishness. All I ask of thee now for myself is that I will not be afraid as I face whatever lies ahead. But please, father, help Dalen to live; help him to be alright. He has been my truest friend, and one of the kindest, gentlest, most pure-hearted people I have ever met. Please, Father, he doesn’t deserve to die. If thou art there, spare his life, so that he may touch the lives of others as he has touched mine. Amen.

                After her prayer was over, she lay down on the ground again. A warm, calming feeling settled on her heart, and she felt as if strong arms were encircling her in a hug. She slowly drifted off to sleep, whispering a final prayer Thank you, dear Father, for answering my cries.     

                       

Author's Note

This story was inspired by a dream I had. The first part with them hugging and Dalen saying he was a curse was actually in the dream, but everything after that I added on. Tell me what you think!

Mostly what I'm worried about with this one is that Dalen and Sierra may not sound like they're fifteen. Keep in mind that they are in dire circumstances, so they'll probably talk differently than they would in an everyday kind of situation, but do you think that they sound TOO grown up?

Also, let me know what you think of the story as a whole. If I ever add this to something, this scene will probably be somewhere in the middle, but do you think I should expound in this, or is it cheesy and I should just leave it at this?

Thanks for your feedback! :D

Reviews

[Miss Evans]

Ciao Allen.

I have to disagree with all of the reviews saying they sound too old, if that sounds older than fifteen, I suppose I sound like a sage from Year 1. The dialogue in the previous version was much less stiff than it is now- I don't think they sounded too old; they sounded like two people who understood that they were most likely about to die.

The story is quite intriguing, your use of 'cliche' is really great, in my opinion. Some cliches are just stories and plot points that never get old; everyone knows that people are bound to spill every bean they have when they are about to die- It's a fact of life.

I already like Sierra and Dalen; they make the sort of tag team that real love stories should have. I also like their names, it makes them sound a bit old-school. As always, your writing style is polished and makes for a much more enjoyable tale.

You could turn this into a book; I would read it.

Bravo.

[Summer'sBreeze]

Allen this is AMAZING! it was like i was there, it could see the sights, hear the sounds, and feel the pain of the characters.

Hey, my sister's name is Sierra :))

Anyway...
truely an amazing piece like always

[Tai Ryens]

This explains in an amazing way how faith works. You don't know, and you could never prove that it happened, but you still feel content because of the warm feeling in your soul. I almost felt sorrow for your fictional characters, as in, sorrow for them as if they were my companions in this life I have as of right now. It's truly a heart-wrenching story.
Keep it up!

[Ice Girl]

Really good! I loved it!