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© copyright of KW156766
Meet Bleak, a troubled kid. He is a non-believer of God and he finally decided to tell his mom (who is very religious) that he does not believe in him. His mom kicks him out of the house with only a small bag of his much-needed things he had to have in order to survive. 2 days later, he is dragging himself alongside the road exhausted when a stranger in a dirty, old, clunker-junker Chevy pickup truck pulls up next to him and asks him if he needs a ride. Bleak agreed, not knowing that one little, but yet powerful story could change his whole life around completely.

Submitted:Mar 21, 2014    Reads: 142    Comments: 33    Likes: 13   

© copyright of KW156766


A stranger's story

I'm Bleak and I'm 14 years old. Yeah, my name could've been better- but you don't get to pick your name, or your parents for that matter. But hey, look on the bright side, it could have been worse. I could have been named Adolf or Eugene-or I could have even been named with a female name. I had this stupid end of the year assignment due for my English teacher-it was supposed to be about something or someone who inspires you- and I had no idea how I was supposed to do it considering that I was in some redneck stranger's old, clunky, rusty pickup truck. Also, there was another problem, my current pen that I had was running out of ink, and it was not likely that I was going to find a pen anywhere else around here. Okay, now, you bookworms are probably wondering where the heck I'm going with this story. I know you are all sitting there thinking "well that was a terrible beginning, what do we want to hear about some stranger's old truck and an English assignment for?" Well, my good readers, this gets better as it goes on… so let's start from how I got into this stranger's truck and go from there!

I had just gotten kicked out of my home about two days prior because I had turned my religious beliefs around for the worst. My whole entire family is crazy religious with every ounce of their soul. They are all Christians through and through and believe in that whole "God died for our sins on the cross then rose again from the dead" nonsense. I had finally decided to tell my mother that I wasn't and never would be a Christian and that I did not believe in that whole holy bible and God thing. Before I knew it, I was thrown out on my own with only the necessary things that were a must-have to survive. (What Christian throws their own son out for not believing in God?-not a true Christian, that's who!) I had gotten no sleep whatsoever within those two days of being out on my own and I was dragging my exhausted self along the side of the road with my little bag of necessities swung over my shoulder just trying to find myself a little place to rest my eyes. All of a sudden, this older guy (maybe in his early 50's) pulled up next to me in a big, old, clunker-junker truck and rolled down his dirty window. Screech.

"Howdy there son, you're sure lookin' rough." He said to me, while observing the baggy, scrungy clothes I had on.
I didn't reply, I just stood there looking up at him and was thinking "what the heck is this stranger beside me for?"
"You run away from home, boy?" He asked, after noticing the small bag that was swung over my shoulder.
"Yep, kind of." I whispered, sounding like a fool.
"Well, you need a lift? I could sure use some company." He asked, with an inviting smile.
"Sure, thanks." I said, confused but desperately needing a ride somewhere.
"Well then, climb on up in here then, what you waitin' for?!" He said, gesturing towards the passenger side of his truck.

I pulled myself up into his lifted Chevy pickup truck and slumped myself down onto the passenger seat. I wasn't even worrying about the dangers of being with a stranger (as bad as the sounds, it was better than walking the streets alone.) With my eyes drooping with tiredness I tossed over onto my side and fell fast asleep. I was awakened to the old man's wrinkly hands shaking me and saying "wake up, boy." over and over again. I quietly groaned and cracked my eyes open the slightest bit and looked up into his sky blue eyes. That was the first time that I had noticed how bright and happy his eyes had looked. They were like looking deep into the calming ocean, or, looking up at the big blue sky. Looking into his eyes made me feel secure, just like my mother's used to. I'm not sure how a stranger's eyes had made me feel safe, but they did. It was if his eyes were telling me a story. The old man finally interrupted me after a couple minutes.

"I've stopped at McDonalds for a pee break. You needa go to the bathroom? We have a long way yet to go." He said, pointing towards the fast food restaurant.
"Nope, I'm good. Where are we heading too?" I asked.
"I was fixin' to take you back to my house, I have a spare house in the back of my yard that is not being used. You could crash there for a while if you'd like." He said, with a genuine smile.
"Oh. Thank you so much, sir! That'd be more than wonderful!" I squealed, with joy.
"You are quite welcome, boy." He said.
I looked up into his eyes once again.
"Hey now, what are you staring at me like that for?" He said, chuckling the slightest.
"Uhhh… nothing, no reason." I told him, then turned around to hide my embarrassment.
"You can tell me, youngling'. I have a great set of listening ears." He said, leaning in closer.
"Well, actually, I was just looking into your eyes. Your eyes are really bright, sir." I said, looking quite embarrassed.

"Why thank ya, I get told that a lot. Would you believe it if I told you that my eyes were droopy, sad, and lifeless looking before, too? It was at a bad time in my life when I was lost and didn't know who I was or what my purpose was in life." He told me, reflecting back on the past.

"Oh. I'm so sorry. Well, they look so much better now. What happened, may I ask? You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to or if it's uncomfortable for you." I asked him, interested in what his story might be.
"I'd be more then glad to share it with you, boy. Can I ask you a question, though, first?" He asked, turning towards me, and looking me straight in the eyes.
'Ummm, sure. What can it hurt? Shoot away." I told him, with a wondering kind-of look on my face.
Then came the question that I was dreading and never wanted to be asked again.
"Are you a Christian?" He asked.
I said nothing.
"Maybe I should rephrase that. Do you believe in God?" He asked, trying again.

I shifted in my seat uncomfortably. I had no idea if I should lie and tell him that I did believe or if I should just tell him the truth and tell him that I did not believe. I figured the easiest way out of this would be to lie, but lying never gets you anywhere in life. I really did want to hear his story, though, so I made up my mind on what to answer him with. I turned back towards him slowly and found that my hands were trembling with nervousness.

"I think I should tell you the truth. And the truth is that, I-I don't really… ummm, believe in…. you know… God." I said, embarrassed and nervously.
"Well, that's a shame, boy. You cannot see the air that you breathe, but yet it's still there-and the same thing goes with God, he exists even though you cannot see him. He died on the cross for your sins then rose again. I sure do have a story to tell you, then!" He said, happily, eager to start his story.
"Okay, I can't wait to hear it! So, fill me in on every detail and make sure to not leave one single thing out!" I said, smiling, and anxiously waiting for him to start his story.

The old man stretched out in the driver's seat and shut the car off. He took a deep breath and turned to look out the window. He gazed out the window and looked at the breathtaking and beautiful scene in front of him. The sky was a bright, sky blue-just like his eyes. The grass was obviously freshly cut and a gorgeous shade of green. The clouds were all different shapes and sizes, one cloud in particular looked like a lion's head. It was a beautiful day out and the sun was shining bright down on the truck. He finally tuned back around to me and took another big breather.

"Alright youngin', here it goes." He said, before starting.
I sat there, wiggling about in my seat, getting a little impatient.
"Well, son, you see, I was homeless once like you before too, when I was about 16 years old. But I did not get kicked out of my house-I ran away from my home because my father was abusive towards me, physically and mentally. One night I seen a crumbled up letter sitting on his work desk-so I decided to snoop and read it. I un-crumbled it, and what was written on it, terrified me." He said, looking sad at the memory of this.
"What did the letter say?! What did the letter say?! What did the letter say?!" I repeated over and over again, anxious to find out what the letter read.
"The letter read: Mom, I'm sorry… but I can't do this anymore. I can't deal with dad. I know you don't believe a word I say when I tell you that he abuses me, but it's true, every single word and detail of it. He hits me, smacks me, locks me in closets for hours and even days without food and water while you're away on business trips, he pushes me up against the porch wall and threatens to strangle me, and a whole lot more. He tells me that I'm worthless, a mistake to this world, his biggest disappointment, a lowlife scum, a stupid idiot, and an ugly rat. He's hurting me, mom, and I can't take it anymore. I don't deserve to be treated this way, I never did anything to him. So, I'm going to go somewhere where I won't get treated badly anymore. I'll see you up in heaven, mom. I love you, and, please know that this is not your fault. Don't cry or be sad over me, just please get yourself away from dad before he does something to you as well. YOU deserve better than that, sooooo much better. See you soon, mommy." He told me, with a tear forming in the corner of his eye.
I just sat there, with a completely shocked look on my face.
He continued on, "He wrote me a suicide letter and was planning on murdering me that night and then he was going to blame my death on that letter he had written for me. As soon as I seen that terrible letter, I packed a very small bag, ran into my mother's bedroom and kissed her on the forehead and whispered "goodbye", then headed out of the door as fast as I could. I was praying to God that my father would not come home early from work catch me leaving for he would surely come after me, violently. I was scared beyond imaginable. My palms were sweaty, and, I was trembling and shaking tremendously with fear. My head was spinning a thousand miles a minute. I ran for my life as fast as my feet could carry me, and my heart was racing a billion beats per second. I felt like I was going to faint from how terrified I was, but I had to keep on going… I HAD to get away, no question about that. I couldn't look back or regret leaving my mother because I had to protect myself and think about my safety first." He said again, the tear now running down his cheek.
Continuing on he says, "Well to get closer to the climax I found my way under a bridge. I laid low for a few days to make sure my dad or anybody wouldn't fine me. I prayed hard those days that I stayed under the bridge, and several different prayers at that. You see, I was never a Christian… but I didn't have anybody else to turn to except God. I remember this one prayer in particular, though. This is how the prayer went:
God, I know you're up there somewhere. I know I haven't been the nicest in my years and I know I haven't believed in you, either. But I really need your help, Lord Jesus. I don't believe in you still, and if you're really there I really need you to prove it to me somehow. But, if you actually are real and are not a fairy tale like I think you are, then, thank you so much for keeping me safe and letting me wake up to a new day each and every morning. I have nobody else to turn to, but you, so I am asking for your help. I have nowhere to go, no food left, and I really don't want to drink any of this dirty lake water… so could you please help me out, somehow? I'm begging of you. And please please give me a sign that you're there and can hear me. If you don't answer my prayer, I'll know you're fake for sure." He told me, getting lost in his deep past memories.
I was just sitting there, with my jaw dropped, and was so surprised at how his story was going so far. I was utterly speechless.
"Please, continue on." I told him, barely getting the words out.
"Well let's speed things up a little… after I said that prayer things started happening. Weird, and good things. I had a dream that night, and let's just get to the point of what happened in it-well, I was falling down a big black hole that seemed like it went on forever and I knew that I was falling to hell. I did not want to burn eternally in fire with the devil, so, I was screaming out for God and asking him to help me and to save me from the devil. All of a sudden before I knew it an angel flew down and grabbed onto me and started flying me up out of the hole to heaven-and then I woke up. That dream alone made me see things different, and I knew that I needed to change my ways around and trust and believe in our Lord. Some other things that were happening was that I also seen his face form in the water by the bridge that I was sleeping at, and, it was clearly his face-there was no denying or depicting it for something else. I couldn't believe what I seen, it was the most beautiful thing ever! I then knew that the dream and seeing his face in the lake was God answering my prayers and letting me know that he was there and that he did listen to me. Next, a few weeks later, I prayed again and asked for forgiveness of my sins and asked him to come into my heart and into my life-I then felt like a whole new person, like, I was… different, changed even. About a month later, I was still homeless and with no money… but I felt like the richest person ever having God in my life. He was helping me and keeping me safe." He said, now smiling from ear to ear.
"I also prayed to God and asked him if he could help me find a job somewhere, then 2 days after praying that prayer I got hired at the local gas station-even though you need to have ID and an address and a telephone number to work there, they made me an exception because I told them that I needed money to buy a house of my own, and that was God's doing-he found me a job… it was a miracle! Praise God! 4 months later after working at the gas station I finally earned enough money to buy myself a small, 2 bedroom trailer. I honestly have to admit that it wasn't the fanciest, but it was a roof over my head and a bed for me to sleep in which I had longed for what seemed like forever. Sleeping in a bed rather than under a bridge on dirt and hard rocks is a million jillion billion to infinity and beyond times better. So, to sum it all up, what happened was this-the lord answered the prayers of a 16 year old homeless teenager and got his life back on track. See, God IS real and he DOES exist and he DOES answer prayers. You just need to pray, believe in him, ask for forgiveness of your sins, and ask for him to come into your heart and into your life. This is coming from a previous non-believer. I am now a believer and live my life for Christ-my reason for being on earth is to serve Jesus and tell people about him. I have had a rough life just like you-so you need to accept God into your heart and straighten your life out, boy. I believe in you and he does too." He told me, with a big, caring smile.

So, that, my good readers, is how I came up with my end of the year essay topic. I'm 17 years old now. That old man, who, by the way, I'm still living in the backyard of, inspired me tremendously. That old man's real name is Simon, and he is the nicest and most loving person you'll ever meet. He adopted me a year later, and I'm proud to call him my father, I love him dearly. We go to church every Sunday-we make sure to not miss a single church session! I'm a Christian now, and I'm so incredibly and unbelievably happy that I turned my life around for the better and took Jesus into my heart because my life could never be better. The only downfall now, is that I don't see my mom at all. But, I couldn't ask for any more than I have now. My life is perfect to a tee. Oh, and, by the way, I wrote my essay and perfected it (oh, and I did find a pen, once we got back to Simon's house), but I never got to turn it in because Simon's house is in Philadelphia and my old school was way in Mount Pleasant. I want to give a big thank you to Simon, for sharing his story to me because it was just what I needed to pull my life together. I now know my purpose in life, and, it is to serve my lord Jesus Christ. This story got better, right? See, I told you lovley readers that it would... I, Bleak, wouldn't let you down!


Side note: I just wanted to add that this is rather a more religious type of story. I know that it is not the type of thing that I usually write about, but I was feeling like writing this type of story so I just went ahead and did it. This is my first shot at this type of story, so feel free to tell me how horrible it is LOL! Now, I know that some of you are not religious or believe, so please don't give me any hate for writing this... i'm sorry to those of you who do get offended or whatever by this. Thanks for reading though, lovleys... it means the world to me!

ALSO, Yes I know the "religious" mother throwing her son out of the house for him not beliving in God is NOT something that a Christian mother would do! I just did that to show that the devil can be deciving even though your own mother.


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