English Story. PArt 1The hospital is depressing. A white waiting room, filled with worried and stressed people. I am one of them. I pray to God in my seat. Pray that shes alright. Pray that He will help her. My hearts beating fast, Im out of breath, and Im drenched from the cold punishing rain. Somewhere in this place, she's hurt. And so I wait. I wait for the news that will either make me leave this place relieved or grieving. Please let her be ok. Please.A doctor enters the room, and walks towards me. Excuse me, are you Mr. Theodore? He asks.I nod and stand up. Is she ok? Is she hurt?
English Story. Part 2My name is Franklin Theodore. I am 27 years of age, and I organize activities in my local church. I once had a perfect life. I woke up every morning with a smile. I greeted everyone I saw. I helped people laugh and smile. And best of all, I come home everyday to my beautiful wife, Alice. But all this had been taken from me. The life God had given me for my loyalty was stripped from my hands. He stole the same happiness he had given me. God had punished me for being grateful to him.I walk these dull, grey streets, and think about my life. What I had and what I lost. I remember the doctor speaking to me. He said there was nothing I could do b
English Story. Part 3The days have been passing before my eyes. Same things over and over again. Same people. Same faces. I begin to lose interest in everything, shrugging everything off in disinterest, except for the one face I keep in my mind. The one smile I hold so close. Her's.I was demoted recently. They said I couldn't think up anymore fun activities like I used to, that I was out of ideas. Now all I do is carry around the equipment the new organizer tells me to carry, do what he wants me to do. I can't say I care very much, though. My job wasn't important to me anyways; it didn't define who I was or anything like that. I did it because I felt it was the
English Story. Part 4After another of my daily prayers, I stand up and wipe my tears away. I turn off the lights, lock the doors, and step out into the night for my daily visit to the hospital. It's dark, cold, and silent, as I walk through the alleyways, thinking of her. Wondering what she's dreaming, if she's thinking of me, if she's safe. Suddenly, a figure leaps from the dark, and pushes me against the hard brick wall. I look up to see a young man with a knife held to my throat. "G-Give me the money, and n-nobody get's hurt!" I think of just letting him do it, letting him rid of this miserable life God has left me, but then I think of Alice. Who will pa