Before I am Famous

Here is the story I submitted to the writing contest. It is kind of long. Well Have a nice day and enjoy the story. Please let me know what you think. Thanks, Jenn

June 24, 1996
Dear God,
I don’t know why I’m writing. I guess because the pastor said we should talk to God. Well I ain’t too much of a talker. Never was. So I guess I’m writing because I got to get a few things off my chest. I know the pale rider will come knocking at my door soon enough.
At least I’d get out of this god-damned nursing home. Oh yeah, I know not to take the Lord’s name in vain. You know up until ‘57, I never did. I was a good, god-fearing, church girl. After ‘57, I couldn’t even believe in you. I stopped going to church. I only go now becasue these damn nursing home people make me. I can’t forget that September of ‘57. Life was great up till then.
I met my first husband, Rocky, when I was 16. He was 25 and the newly apppointed lighthouse keeper. Oh Rocky, was so handosme with his short brown hair and his Atlantic Ocean eyes. We married when I was 17. The very best day of my life.
We moved into the lighthouse keeper’s home. It was a dream come true with electricity and indoor plumbing. It was there we created a beautiful daughter, Grace. We named her Grace becasue she was a wonderful gift from you, God. Anyway, I was 18 when she was born. And there was one hell of a gale thrashing outside. It seemed so odd that when the storm passed, my baby was born. Rocky was there to cut her cord.
We spent many storms in that home, braving through what we thought was the worst. Rocky sent us away only a few times to stay with his sister on the mainland. when me and Grace would come home, Rocky’d be there waiting for us.
In ‘57 though, there seemed to be a lot of hurricanes coming through. In the early part of the season it wasn’t too terrible. Grace was 16 at the time and experienced her first pretty nasty storm. Grace wanted to go back to Charotte earlier then usual. I normally taker her in September before school starts. That year she left in July to stay with a friend. Then the friend and her would go to the private school they both attended.
Boy, was I glad she was gone in Septmeber. The radio was calling for a catergory 4 hurricane to hit Hatteras Island within the day. So me and Rocky boarded up our lovely house. We knew the storm was coming. The sky was greying with each window we boarded. The ocean was churning and crashing further up the beach.
Rocky said to me, “It’s gonne be bad, love. It’s not too late to leave.” I told him that I was not leaving. he kissed me.
We were in our home when the wind picked up. H elooked out a small square cut out of the boarded windows to see the lighthouse. I’ll remember these words forever,” The light’s out, Liz. I have to go.” We pulled the boards off the front door. “You’ll be okay. I’ll be back soon. Just stay away from the door. Liz, I love you forever.” He disappeared in the fury carrying his lamp. “I love you forever, Rocky,” I screamed into the shrieking wind.
The storm worsened. The radio transmission went out. I sat in the living room with my flashlight. The wind picked up. I started hearing things getting tossed around and crashing to the ground or into the side of the house. Then I heard what seemed like thunder. The front door whipped open. I thought it was Rocky but it was the ocean quickly filling my house.
I ran upstairs and hid in the closet in our bedroom. I prayed so hard in that closet. I wanted Rocky to be with me. I wanted this night to end. And I cried. I cried because of maybe never seeing Rocky again or being in his arms. I was afraid I would leave Grace motherless. I should’ve went with Rocky to the light. It was safe there. It survived many storms. I cried myself to sleep.
I woke the next day to raindrops on my face. The ceiling was leaking. I figured the storm was over. I opened the closet door and I saw a grey sky through the holes in the ceiling.
I came downstairs and the water was gone. The carpet oozed saly water with each footstep. I went outside and looked to the light. My heart dropped. It was gone. I ran to where it used to stand. The lighthouse was scattered on the beach like Lincoln Logs on the floor. I screamed Rocky’s name. The only reply was from an angry ocean. Seeing his hand in the rubble, I ran over and started moving pieces. I got tired. I sat there holding his dead and crying.
How could you do this to me, God? How could you take my one and only away from me? He was my life, he was my guardian, my lighthouse. How could you do this to Grace, killing her daddy? From that moment on, I hated you. What was the point of loving you and beholding you when you did something this hateful?
The years passed. I got older. I remarried. And when Julian died from a heart attack, Grace came to the island packed me and my things and shipped here, Raliegh Nursing Home.
The pastor here said we should seek God now, repent our sins and be ready for death. Well, I forgive you, God. I think we’re even now. You forsaked me and I forsaked you. I miss my love, Rocky. It’s been almost 40 years since we held each other. I’ve lived long enough with out him. Please God, I am ready to die.
Waiting in North Carolina,
Elizabeth Jane Cassidy St.-James

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