A Frame of Memories

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Literary Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
An inspirational story I thought up one night. It's not very well written, but i think the concept is appropriate

Submitted: December 13, 2011

A A A | A A A

Submitted: December 13, 2011





The air was cool and the traffic was hot. The city life went on through the day with its typical behavior. Shop began to open, men in suits with nice cars went along arguing with each other from their steering wheels, and the city’s landmarks began to open to the public.

On one end of the city was a large house. People knew very well about the house and the people who resided in it. The house had many rooms and portraits of very important people running along its opulent hallways.

Robert was at his desk, writing a letter to another very important person. After he was done writing it, he folded up the letter and put it in an envelope. He then took his pen, which he considered special since he only used it for letters, and opened his desk drawer. After he put his pen away, Robert tried to close the drawer, but something had jammed the hinges. He took everything out of the desk and he eventually pulled out what was jamming the hinge. A smile crept along Robert’s face.

It was a photograph of Robert when he was younger, wearing a red cap, and with a lovely looking lady standing next to him. Robert’s wife then came in, wearing a majestic looking outfit. Robert immediately asked to her to come see the photo, and she as well smiled when she saw the picture, but then made a face as if she was trying to hold back tears. She then kissed him and left the office. “I can’t believe I found you,” Robert said, “After all these years.”. Robert began to remember his childhood.

Robert often did not like to remember his past, but he felt it was necessary. The farthest that Robert could remember was when he was in kindergarten. Robert was a lively, frivolous, and energetic little man. Robert longed for those days again; no worries and no sadness. Robert especially remembered going out to play with his friends in the warm afternoon. “Peaceful bliss,” whispered Robert, “How I miss you so much.” Robert hesitated to continue remembering; his following memory only offered sadness and despair.

Robert remembered being in a white hallway; he remembered shouting and people running around in white coats and glasses. He remembered one of the men in the white coats, Dr. Parsons. Robert and his father followed Dr. Parsons into a beige colored room on one side of the hallway. Robert remembered the bed, and the curtains, and especially the blood. Dr. Parsons spoke, “I’m so sorry sir, but she is gone. We couldn’t save her. Her injuries were too severe for us to treat in such limited time.”. Robert’s father immediately broke down crying. Robert had never seen his father cry before. Robert, despite being only six at the time, knew what this meant, but did not cry. He felt incredible pain in his stomach and in his head, and the last thing he remembered was the blood seeping through the blanket that covered his mother’s body.

All the memories that Robert had before the death of his mother were pleasant and happy. Now, Robert had to endure pain and suffering. Robert’s next memory took place in elementary school. He remembered how no one liked him and how his father was never home. He remembered the abuse he was given at school and the overwhelming stench of beer and tobacco that welcomed him at home. Robert was not exactly popular amongst his peers at school. By now, at age eleven, Robert looked very different than he did five years earlier before his mother’s death. Robert was tall, chubby, had poor eyesight (which required glasses), poor hearing (which required hearing aids), lactose intolerant, and had freckles. In elementary and middle school, Robert was abused, bullied, threatened, and verbally harassed.

In the earlier years, it only made Robert sad, but as he aged and matured, the feelings of sadness become more intense. Robert was an outstanding student. He never failed to do what he was told, and was a hard worker; however, Robert was alone in his life. At home, Robert had only the company of his drunken, deadbeat father whom he never spoke to, and at school, he had his books. Shakespeare, Dante, Homer, and Orwell were among his favorites in his collection. Despite having the comfort of his books and intellect, Robert still felt empty, cold, and deprived of his good spirit. Robert remembered one specific memory in middle school that scarred him for life, and was second only to the death of his mother in the depression that it brought forward.

Robert was walking home from another bland day of “needless work”, or as it was seen in his mind. It was a very cold and very rainy day, as it often was at this time of the year. Robert was excited to get home because at school, he checked out another book from the library that he figured he just had to read. As he was walking, Robert could hear footsteps approaching, the sound was blanketed heavily by the rain. Robert turned around just as the footsteps stopped right behind him, and his face met a large, beefy fist. It was Roger, a rather large and aggressive young man who was notorious for his unnecessary abuse towards Robert and a few others. Roger did not say anything and neither did Robert, blood flowing from his nose and running along the sidewalk with the rainwater. Roger glared at him, picked up his book, and smiled. He then opened the book, tore out the pages, tossed them into the gutter and walked away.

Robert could not remember anything else from this memory. He was saddened tremendously and this was a lethal blow to his self-esteem. The one thing that kept Robert happy and that made him feel good about himself, had been swept away in the gutter. Robert spoke to no one except those he needed to for the rest of his 8th grade year.

Robert was staring at the picture again, sitting upright in his desk. He loosened is tie, closed his eyes, and took a deep, long sigh. He was about to remember the most important years of his life.

In his freshman years, Robert remembered how he was the same as he was in middle school; the only difference being that Roger was no longer around; he had been sent to juvenile hall for assaulting an officer, but Robert was still not satisfied. Robert still felt empty and worthless.

Robert was excited about his next memory. The next thing that he could remember in detail changed his life forever. Robert remembered that he was in the library, as he often spent three to four hours there after school. Robert was about to check out with his book. He approached the counter, and the librarian scanned his book. As he was leaving, he accidentally bumped into someone behind him. “Watch where you’re going, idiot!” said a woman’s voice behind him. “I’m sorry,” said Robert. He turned around to meet the girl’s face. As soon as he saw her, Robert froze. To Robert, she was the most beautiful creature he ever laid his eyes upon. She was about his height, and had beautiful light brown hair and hazel eyes.

They stood, glaring at each other. “Sir, are you done, or is there something else I can help you with?” asked the librarian. Robert stood aside, still staring at her. She moved up to the counter, and looked away so she could scan her book. Robert began to make for the door. “Wait!” called a voice behind him. Robert stopped, his eyes widened and his body stiffened. He turned around and there was the girl, her glossy blue-green eyes fixed on his face. Robert stared at her, and hesitated to say anything, but he managed to speak. “My name is Robert,” he said. He stuck out an open palm to her. “I’m Samantha,” she said. She shook his hand lightly. Robert could feel her soft, cream-colored palm against his, and had an odd feeling building up inside him. Robert was definitely not the social type, and he thought this was awkward, but he was too interested in her to just say “hi.”

Robert asked her about her book, and she asked him about his. They first talked about their books, and then their interests, and then their similarities. They exchanged their phone numbers, and they left together. One his way home, Robert, for the first time in ten years, since the death of his mother, was happy.

Robert and Samantha were inseparable from each other. The talked and talked for hours on end, and when they didn’t, they had imaginary conversations with each other. For the first time since his mother’s death, Robert felt alive and free.

After high school, Robert and Samantha stayed together. Robert and Samantha went to college together. Robert studied Political Science, and Samantha studied Psychology. They would spend as much time as they possibly could with each other. Never did a day go by without the words “I love you” slipping through their lips.

After college, Robert and Samantha decided to get married. Robert looked at his ring in the office, and he remembered the beautiful ring that he had given her. They had a wonderful wedding. The relatives of both were present. Even Robert’s father, he who cried when his wife died, and now cried out of joy for his son’s happiness.

Robert was still looking at the beautiful picture of the couple, who never seemed happier. He remembered the night the photo was taken; when they were on their honeymoon in England. He never looked more handsome and her never more beautiful. Robert took the photo from its frame, and read the writing that he wrote on it the night he received the picture. In fine, bold writing, it said: “I LOVE MY LIFE AS I LOVE MY WIFE”. Robert’s eyes began to tear.

Robert began to cry, but not of the pain and sorrow he endured as a child, but of the joy, the happiness, the freedom, and the gratefulness he felt for his good fortune. AS he cried, he gently put the photo back in its frame and set the photo on his desk. As he had done this, a very tall man with dark skin, sunglasses, and a suit entered.

“Mr. President,” he said in a deep voice, “It’s time to leave. Marine One has arrived.”. Robert looked at the man, his eyes still wet, and said, “Yes. I’ll be right out, One moment.”. The tall man nodded and exited the office.

After the man left, Robert sat back in his chair. He felt the stillness, the serenity, the calmness all around him; everything was quiet. “It’s funny,” said Robert. He picked up the picture and spoke to it, “I am expected to bring peace to this world. People want me to bring them happiness. Through you, I feel revived. I feel fresh. I feel happy once again. I feel that I have lived an incredible life and should be grateful of all the gifts I have been given. Thank you.” He kissed the photo and set it back on his desk. Robert then stood up from his desk, fixed his tie, and dried his eyes. The Leader of the Free World opened the door, looked at his desk one more time, smiled, with the feeling of his eyes filling with tears again, and then turned and closed the door behind him. Robert had found peace, and now he went to give the world back the peace that it had given him.



© Copyright 2018 Gabriel Benitez. All rights reserved.

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