The Dream/Circle #writephoto

She stared at the photo, her face turning white as a sheet.  It looked exactly like the place in her dream.  The eerie woods with its tall trees and overgrown grass that looked like hay scattered on the ground and the strange stones arranged in a circle.  She was afraid to tell John for fear that he would think that she having a relapse.

Three years ago, she had suffered a nervous breakdown after and it had taken a long time for her to recover.  She was fine until she started having the same dream shortly after she celebrated her fortieth birthday.

It began with her walking through the woods and it appeared to her that it was in the early 1900s for she wore a gown which swept the ground as she walked.  Why she would venture into the woods unaccompanied, she had no idea.  Perhaps it was the adventurous spirit in her.  She would walk and walk, until she came to the stones.  Curious, she would approach them.  They held a strange fascination for her.

There was something unearthly about them.  She went to the largest one and after a moment’s hesitation, she reached down and touched it.  Suddenly, she was lying on her back, looking up at a man, dressed as a priest dressed in blue and saffron robes and the crackling sound of flames followed by unbearable heat.  And then she would wake up, feeling as if her body was on fire.

What did this dream mean?  Was she losing her mind again?  She was afraid to tell anyone.  She didn’t want to go back to the psychiatric ward.

Her hand trembled as she held the photo.  She would show it to John and ask him about it and she had to be perfectly calm about it.

After dinner that night when they were relaxing on the sofa, she showed the photo to him.  “John, I saw this in the desk drawer,” she said.  “When was it taken?”

“I was working on a story about Temple Wood and I found this photo in the archives.  I think it was taken in the early 1900s.  It was in these woods where it is believed that a missing adolescent girl was burned alive on this large stone–known as the Druid altar.”  He pointed to the same stone she had touched in her dream.  “Her name was Alice Frawley.  She would have been forty if she were still alive today.”

She felt a cold fear clutch at her heart.  “Do–do you have a photo of her?”

“I believe so.   I’ll go and get it.”

He returned a while later and handed it to her.  “Sorry, it took me so long to find it.  I’m not sure why it wasn’t with the other photo.”

She took one look at it and fainted.

Startled, he took the photo out of her hand and examined it closely.  He scrambled to his feet and ran for the photo album.  He flipped through the pages until he came to the photo of Annie when she was a teenager.  His face went white when he saw the uncanny resemblance between her and Alice.

Source:  Voices From the Dawn

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Daraja’s New Life

Daraja loved this small Italian coastal town, surrounded by the Tyrrhenian Sea.  It was nothing like her home, Sokoto, Nigeria’s poorest village.

Four years ago, at age 16, she had to quit school when her widowed father died.  Her older brother worked as a mechanic while she sold bread and water.  Then, a neighbor told her about a friend who could help her to find a job in Italy.

Unfortunately, that friend turned out to be a “connection man”.  Daraja was held in a warehouse outside of Tripoli and forced into prostitution.  Months later, she was taken to Garaboli to wait for the boat to Italy.  Once in Sicily, she didn’t call her madam, but went to a local humanitarian NGO where she met Gaetano, a wonderful man, twice her age.

Initially, he was fatherly towards her but then they fell in love.  She patted her stomach.  Their second child was on the way.

She saw Gaetano and their son, Alessandro coming up the road.  She waved.  Gaetano waved back but Alessandro ran towards her.

 

175 Words

This story is based on true stories of young Nigerian girls who are forced into prostitution.  They are taken to Libya where they take a rubber boat to Italy where they are to call their madam at the mobile number their “connection man” gave them.

It was written as part of Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers.  For more information visit Here.  To read other stories based on this week’s prompt, visit Here.

 

Sources:  Earth Porm; News Deeply; Ventures Africa

Mateo

Photo Credit: Susan Spaulding

The framed shirt of soccer icon Diego Maradona hanging on the wall was a painful reminder of what happened several weeks ago.  In a parking lot of a bar in Medellín, her fiancé Mateo was gunned down because he scored an own goal which led to his team’s elimination from the World Cup.  Their wedding was to take place later that year.  He was only 25.  In memory of his death, his older brother, Santiago founded the Mateo Garcia Project to help disadvantaged children learn to play soccer.

She sat in a sports bar in New York City, surrounded by soccer fans preparing to watch the match between France and Argentina.  She avoided looking at the television set.

She glanced at her watch.  Santiago should be here any minute.  It was his idea to come here for brunch.

“Sorry, I’m late,” he apologized when he joined her.  “Traffic was heavy.”

“You’re not late,” she said.  “I came five minutes ago.”

“How’re you, Valeria?”

“Mateo Jr. and I are doing fine,” she said, patting her stomach.

Santiago looked regretful.  “His Dad should be here.”

“He is here,” she said, covering her heart.  “Where he will always be.”

 

196 Words

 

This was inspired by the true story of Andres Escobar who lost his life when he scored an own goal in the World Cup 1994 match between Colombia and the United States.  It was written as part of Sunday Photo Fiction.  For more details visit Here.

To read more of the stories based on this week’s prompt, visit Here.

Source:  Wikipedia

The Nightmare

Copyright Susan Spaulding

She stood at the window.  Radio City Music Hall was on her left.  Below, people carried on with their lives, oblivious to her plight.

She had left one prison only to end up in another type—without bars but more confining.  She was trapped inside the world of sex trafficking.  In exchange for being released from prison she was forced to become a sex worker.  If she didn’t comply, her bond would be rescinded and she would be thrown back into jail.  Prison life for an African American woman would be intolerable.

She had been arrested on prostitution charges, which were false.  She had been in the wrong place at the wrong time and when the others were rounded up, she was too.  Her protests fell on deaf ears and found herself in a cell, looking through the bars, terrified.  She had no one to help her.

When she heard that her bail was posted and that she was going to be released, she was surprised but relieved.  And then her nightmare really began…

She turned away from the window and began to undress.  The senator lay there watching her, waiting, like all predators with their victims.

197 words

This story was inspired by an article on US Sex Trafficking where sex traffickers target incarcerated women, forcing them to become sex workers after posting their bail and having them released from prison.  The women had to do what they were told or risk going back to prison.  Sex trafficking is a heinous practice that needs to be banned.

This post was written as part of Sunday Photo Fiction. For more details visit Here.  To read more of the stories based on this week’s prompt, visit Here.

Source:  Freedom United

Nisha/Wave #writephoto

Photo courtesy of Sue Vincent

Her sister, Nisha was dead and she felt nothing.  As she stared at the sea her mind traveled back to what happened to her ten years ago.  She was 13 at the time.  She left her home with Nisha and her husband, thinking that they were going to Delhi but instead, they ended up in a remote village.  She was sold into marriage to a man old enough to be her father.

Hatred toward her sister and her brother-in-law welled inside her.  They had betrayed her.  She trusted them and they betrayed her.  They made her believe that they were going to Delhi but instead they took her to a village where strange men were coming into the room where she was kept and looking at her as if she were a piece of merchandise and offering money.  All the while Nisha stood outside, knowing what what was going to happen to her and not having a change of heart.  She kept hoping that her sister would rush in and try to stop what was happening but she didn’t.  Fortune meant more to Nisha than her sister did.

She managed to escape and was rescued by an anti-trafficking charity.  She was sent back to her parents.  She was among the lucky girls.  Many of them are lost to their families and trapped in a world of sex and domestic slavery.  Several days later, word got back to the family that police busted a human trafficking ring.  Nisha and her husband were part of the ring responsible for selling girls to men in the same village where they had taken her.

Now ten years later, she was working for the charity which rescued her.  She was determined to fight people like Nisha and her husband and all the evil forces to protect other girls from going through the horrors she did.  Nisha was dead now but there were others like her out there who preyed on young girls for profit.  She was going to fight them.  And more traffickers were going to end up in prison like her brother-in-law.  She hoped he was rotting in there.

One thing she learned from this whole experience was that the face of evil didn’t have to belong to a stranger–it could very well belong to someone very close to you.  She felt no sorrow over Nisha’s death–only peace.  It was one less evil person to fight against.

To remain silent in the face of evil is itself a form of evil – Sue Monk Kidd

Do not accept an evil you can change – E. Lockhart, We Were Liars

This was inspired by a true story of a teenager who was sold into marriage by her sister and brother-in-law.  It was written in response to the Thursday Photo Prompt – Waves at Sue Vincent’s Daily Echo.  For more details click here.

 

Sources:  The Guardian; Washington Post

Freedom

She stood on top of the mountain, her eyes riveted to the American flag as it flapped gently in the breeze.  It was more spectacular than the surrounding landscape.  It was a symbol of freedom from a life of religious persecution in a country where being a Christian led to her husband’s arrest and imprisonment.  After learning of his death resulting from vicious beatings and torture, she fled their home.  She was two months pregnant.

For days she traveled on foot with nowhere to sleep and nothing to eat except sunflower seeds but still, she continued to cling to her faith.  She found a safe house in Bangkok but shortly after, Thai police showed up, seized her possessions and sent her to detention.  The judge ordered her deportation.  Back in the jail cell, she prayed, “God, please help me.”

And He did, through the U.S. Embassy officials who helped her to escape from the Chinese and to America.  Now she and their daughter were free. One day she would tell her about her brave father.

175 words.

It was inspired by a true event and was written for the Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers challenge.  For more information, please visit Here.

To read other stories based on this week’s prompt, visit Here.

Source:  Christian Post; The Voice of the Martyrs Canada;  CBN News

Obey God

Then they reported to Saul, saying, “Look, the people are sinning against the Lord by eating the blood – 1 Samuel 14:33

Do we sometimes go to great lengths to obey those in authority but in the process we end up disobeying God?  It happened with Israel’s army when they came upon a forest where honey was flowing.  There was honey on the ground, ready for the men to eat but they didn’t eat it because of the king had placed them under a cursed when he swore, “Cursed is the man that eats any food before it is evening, and I have been avenged on my enemies.” 

The people feared the king’s rash oath so no one took of the honey except Jonathan who was not present when his father made the people swear to keep the oath.  He dipped the end of his rod into the honey and put his hand to his mouth, his eyes brightening at the taste.  One of the people told him that “Your father surely made the people swear, saying, ‘Cursed is the man that eats any food this day.’ ” This person and the rest of the people were greatly distressed.

Jonathan’s reply was, “My father has troubled the land. See how my eyes have brightened, because I tasted a little of this honey.  How much more, if the people had surely eaten freely today of the spoil of their enemies which they found? But now the defeat of the Philistines has not been great.”

So, the people struck the Philistines that day and faint and famished, they took the cattle and sheep and slew them.  They ate them with the blood in them which was a violation of God’s commandment which states:  Only be sure that you do not eat the blood. For the blood is the life, and you may not eat the life with the meat.  You must not eat it. You must pour it on the ground like water.  You must not eat it, so that it may go well with you and with your children after you, when you do that which is right in the sight of the Lord (Deuteronomy 12:23-25). 

Blinded by hunger, the people broke God’s commandment.  It is ironic that their obedience to King Saul’s foolish oath led to their disobedience to God.  Their act is seen as rebellious because they put their fear of Saul’s curse above their faithfulness to God’s commandment.  They were loyal to the king instead of to God.  And this led to their grievous sin.

When it was reported to Saul what they were doing, he turned on them and accused them of acting treacherously.  Then, he set up a stone to have the animals properly killed and he also built an altar to God to prevent further violation of the law.  The people had defiled themselves.  We must never allow anyone, no matter who it is to cause us to sin against God.  Perhaps it would have been better to incur the king’s curse by eating the honey rather than violating God’s law.

The people redeemed themselves when they stood up against Saul who would have killed his son, Jonathan when it was revealed that he had taken some of the honey, although it was done in ignorance.  Jonathan was willing to die but the people interceded.  They said to Saul, “Will Jonathan die, who has worked this great salvation in Israel? God forbid. As the Lord lives, there will not one hair of his head fall to the ground. For he has worked with God this day.”

They rescued Jonathan and he did not die.  They couldn’t stand by and allow the man who was brave enough to go over to the Philistine garrison to see what the Lord would do, trusting that He would work something out to deliver their enemies into their hands.  Through him, Lord brought them victory that day.  They people acted on their conscience.  It’s never too late to do what is right.

We should never let fear cause us to make bad choices.  When it comes to choosing whom we listen to or follow, it’s a no brainer.  “We ought to obey God rather than men” (Acts 5:29).  We must obey God no matter what.

 

Sources:  Bible Gateway; Blue Letter Bible