My First Attempt At Writing

Hey Everyone,

Happy sunday! Hope you’ve all had good weeks and weekends, and I hope you’re ready for the new week. Well sometime last summer, I started writing a story, pretty much on impulse, I managed to get out a few pages then I stopped. I forgot about it for a good few months, then remembered I had written a story, so I’ve been trying to get some constructive criticism, I’ve had some so far, mainly from my little sister. The story isn’t finished yet , but I’ll continue dependent on the constructive criticism I get. So please read it with a critical eye, dont just say “it’s good”, “it’s alright”, or “it’s not bad”, be honest with me! And so without much further ado , i present my story , titled “The Love Story” (1st Ed) , x

The Love Story

Blood. Everywhere. In my hair, dripping down my face, gushing from my back, everywhere. The pain was so intense; I could have just given up and died. I wanted to, I really did, but I couldn’t, not yet. Why? Because of love. The whip on my back was simply torturous. The metal balls that were attached to the whip tenderised my flesh, bruising me, as though I was just a piece of meat, and the hooks and broken bones ripped my flesh as they left my skin.
In my agony , I looked to the heavens , remembering a time, aeons past , when I was home, in my palace, seated, next to my father. A palace so beautiful. So beautiful the human mind could not even begin to imagine. A palace that was never spoken into being, it had always been, just as my father and I. His face was distraught, something that didn’t happen often. “Father, what’s wrong?” I asked, wondering if I could help take that expression off his face. Then I focused on what he was looking at, he was looking towards the earth, a new planet we had created. The homosapiens we had loving formed from the soil were talking to someone, or something. But they were not talking to each other; they were talking to the serpent, that old serpent, the devil, Lucifer. Well Eve was talking and Adam wasn’t, that was the problem. I looked on in horror as the serpent fed Eve lies that eased off his tongue with a scary ease. “Do I understand that God told you not to eat from any tree in the garden?” my heart sank, and as the Alpha and Omega, my father, I and our holy spirit knew what would happen as this conversation continued. “Not at all, we can eat from the trees in the garden. It’s only about the tree in the middle of the garden that God said, ‘don’t eat from it; don’t even touch it or you’ll die.'” It was as if my heart could not sink any further. We had never ever once told Eve she could not touch the tree, only not to eat the fruit from it. “You won’t die. God knows that the moment you eat from that tree, you’ll see what’s really going on. You’ll be just like God, knowing everything, ranging all the way from good to evil.” Why wasn’t Adam saying anything, he just looked on, as if in a trance. Then Eve looked at the tree, the tree of good and evil, the tree of choice. As she looked at it, there was a change in her; she looked at it through the eyes of deceit, which Lucifer had given to her. She reached up, and picked the fruit. Adam still said nothing. Eve looked at the fruit, and then greedily bit into it. With the juices still running down her face she offered some to Adam, who also took a bite. And then it happened. As if by magic, their aura, their hue of innocence disappeared, instantly. I looked on in despair as they realised their nakedness and made futile attempts to cover themselves.
I looked upon the face of my father, the great I Am, and I saw hurt in his eyes, like nothing I’d seen before. In a split second, we were in the garden, the beautiful Eden we had made only recently. Father called out to Adam, “where are you?” Father called out, but he knew where they were. “I heard you in the garden and I was afraid because I was naked. And I hid” was Adams reply. ‘’Who told you you were naked? My heart bled as I thought of Adam and Eve. Our beautiful son and daughter, our beautiful innocent children. Could they ever get back the constant connection with the I Am, and their aura, the glow. My mind raced through several ideas, in desperation to save them.
Father, was so full of love, and his love made him a just judge. If a crime was committed, the human mind would expect a judge to judge the criminal guilty. Why? Because that was what he was, guilty. Father God was and still is the most just judge, and Adam and Eve had stepped out the beautiful innocence and taken themselves and all their offspring that would ever come into the earth into a defiled state of being guilty. And the judgement of sin was a scary one, a most terrifying one, Death,, Eternal separation from God.
‘’Did you eat from that tree I told you not to eat from?” Father’s voice brought me back to the here and now. “The Woman you gave me as a companion, she gave me fruit from the tree, and, yes, I ate it.” Father looked at the one who he created, his 1st daughter, “What is this that you’ve done?”, the pain that resonated from his voice was heart shattering. My heart raced through possibilities, anything to save my beautiful ones, anything. “The serpent seduced me,” she said, “and I ate.” Father God was going to give everyone a just punishment and he started with Lucifer, the son of morning “Because you’ve done this, you’re cursed, cursed beyond all cattle and wild animals, Cursed to slink on your belly and eat dirt all your life” my mind still raced , then an idea came to me. I couldn’t bear to lose my children, the beautiful ones to Lucifer; I would do anything, anything at all. Even if I could give myself for the death required of them, I would, whatever it took. Father and our holy spirit looked at me, as they thought about my idea. “I’m declaring war between you and the Woman, between your offspring and hers. He’ll wound your head, you’ll wound his heel”. I was the woman’s offspring that Father God talked about. That meant that he had agreed. I was to become a man, and was to be born of a woman. And I would have to die. I glimpsed the future. What a horrible death awaited me. I was willing to die, just to save my beautiful ones, and all the other beautiful ones to come.
Another lash of the torturous whip brought me back to now. The death I had glimpsed so many aeons ago was but a few more steps away. This roman solider who whipped me, he whipped me with an almost demonic passion, I groaned in pain, hate was such an ugly thing. Little did he know that he was another of my beautiful ones, he was mine, and his aura was missing as well. “That’s enough!”, I heard a voice scream behind me. “put his clothes back on for him and lets gets this crucifixion started!”. They both jeered as the solider, my own beautiful one, roughly forced my clothes over my head. The clothes grated against the fresh wounds on my back, I cried out in pain. My heart was heavy, but this heaviness was not my own. It was Father Lord and the Holy Spirit observing me in my pitiful state. We as a triune being knew this was necessary, to save them. They both continued to watch me. My whole body ached; I struggled to move, after being tied up for so long. Three soldiers brought the cross, my altar of sacrifice towards me. A pungent smell came off of it as it got closer to me. The smell was a mix of sweat, urine, excretory materials, and blood. The soldiers must have used this cross in crucifying several others before me. The smell made me want to hurl. It was simply criminal. The soldiers placed the cross on my back and I buckled under its weight. The soldiers gladly helped me up. This was one death they were all excited to see, they would get to see the man, who claimed be God humiliated and the die the most shameful of deaths. The soldiers led me and I tried so hard to follow, I took a few steps, which were simply torturous. I took another step and buckled again. The cross slammed across my back, I screamed out in agony. It was so hard, everything physical part of my body ached and I was exhausted. The high council had questioned me all night, in a bid to find something, anything to sentence me to death for.
“What can we kill this man for?” one priest asked. “He’s a blasphemer! We can kill him for that, I’m sure”. Caiaphas the chief priest agreed, “yes, we all know that lying carpenter is a blasphemer, but we need concrete evidence to sentence him to death, otherwise people will call us wicked”. The high priests and the members of the Jewish councils all nodded vehemently, in full agreement. “I’ll send one of my house helps to pay someone who will pretend to be a witness”. The helper was gone for hours, and came back, fruitless. “Please sir, several people agreed but no one had a concrete story” Caiaphas was livid. Caiaphas and the other high priests, and the Jewish council members looked on at Me. A mix of anger, hate and pride all radiated from their eyes. Caiaphas looked me right in the eye, “how dare you, a mere man, not even a handsome man at that, call yourself God?” I simply said nothing. “Answer me!!”. Just as Caiaphas stood up to confront me, two men walked into his courtyard. “And who are you?” he asked. “We are here to witness against him”. I continued to look on, not saying anything. “We heard him say he would destroy the temple and rebuild it in three days”. Caiaphas looked happy, extremely. He look back at me and asked “Well, aren’t you going to answer these charges? What do you have to say for yourself?”, still I said nothing. “I demand in the name of the living God—tell us if you are the Messiah, the Son of God”. How ironic, he knew about my father, he had heard about him, read about him, talked about him, but he didn’t know him personally, because if he did he would know about me. “You have said it. And in the future you will see the Son of Man seated in the place of power at God’s right hand and coming on the clouds of heaven”. That was the final straw for him and I knew it. He was absolutely livid. He tore at his clothes. “Blasphemy! Why do we need other witnesses? You have all heard his blasphemy, what is your verdict?” I looked at him, I already knew my verdict. I knew it long before he was even a thought in his mother and fathers mind, talk less of being in his mother’s womb, but still I said nothing. “Guilty! He deserves to die!” was the verdict the crowd gave on my behalf. Some of them spat at me, and some even punched me with their fists and mocked me. My heart, one with the Father’s and the Holy Sprit’s asked for forgiveness on their behalf, because they didn’t know what they where doing.
On the hard gravel floor, I lay, with the cross on my back, tormenting my fresh wounds, in the agonising sun, simply unable to stand. “Stand up!” I heard someone say. I tried, o how I tried. When the soldiers saw I just couldn’t stand up, they grabbed a man from the crowd, a Cyrene to carry it for me. I looked into his eyes, it was Simon, and he was another of mine. Love welled up in my heart as I look upon Simon, another who had lost his aura. Simon picked up the cross on his own back, and the soldiers pulled me up.
I walked very slowly next to Simon the roar of the crowd that followed us was almost deafening. The journey was not much longer now. Simon looked at me. I could see the weight and the discomfort of the cross on his back. I reached out and touched him “I love you Simon, thank you for carrying my cross”. Simon smiled and we continued to walk. Soon we reached Golgotha, the place of the skull. It had this name because it looked like a skull. Simon put down the cross, and stepped back.

Soooo, what did you think?????

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About Memoirs Of A Yoruba Girl

A Londoner rooted in Yoruba culture exploring life behind her personal lenses

Posted on January 29, 2012, in My Writing and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. 6 Comments.

  1. i love it already cnt wait for you to complete it. keep up the gd work 😉

  2. Heya. Well done on writing this. The plot is well-known and should be familiar reading to most people. That’s good. However, it also means it’s harder to put a unique twist on it as it’s been out there for time past. Nonetheless, I really liked the concept of the ‘aura’, i think that could be your own little twist actually. The very emotional & thoughtful Jesus is a good take. Is there anything else you can add to turn things upside down? One suggestion is maybe writing the same story simultaneously through the perspective of a couple of characters, seamlessly flowing through each one – a bit like in the film Crash (where everyone has a different life but one fateful day, they all interact). That is only a suggestion and is subject to its own critique as well.

    Secondly, in terms of the imagery and language, you’ve put in a lot of details to help us visualise what’s going on, which is very good. A good addition would be to upgrade the language a notch or two into using more sophisticated images where minimal words are used but the same images are evoked. I would suggest doing some research into literary techniques and incorporating as wide a variety of this as you can. A sample technique is ‘Magical realism’ widely used by Laura Esquivel in Like Water for Chocolate. Decide what kind of theme you want the total of your story to convey and then select the best techniques to help you achieve that.

    Before writing other segments, I would suggest taking each sentence or paragraph and rewriting it in a deeper, more literary fashion. Most important though, is making the story your own.

    Again, really good job on this story. Can’t imagine how long it took you to write it. Keep up the good work.

    Have you read Abimbola Dare’s ‘The Small Print’? That might give you some ideas.

    All the best!

  3. Babe, this is actually pretty interesting….like Grace was saying, try to make the language more sophisticated. I love the perspective you’ve written it from but if u wanted it to be a short story, u could pull it off with just the perspective u’ve chosen….if u want it to be something more, then, like Grace was saying again, other perspectives would be great. But for a first attempt, TRES BIEN!!!! Looking forward to reading some more from u.
    Grace and Peace hon xxx

  4. Wow esther this is really good. U’ve got talent gal..can’t wait for you to finish it!!

  1. Pingback: Jesus Is Alive! | Memoirs.Of.A.Yoruba.Girl

  2. Pingback: My Story is available for download! | Memoirs.Of.A.Yoruba.Girl

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