I wrote it during NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) of 2008. Admittedly, I self-published this book in 2011 and after a few months, I took it down. It's really not that good and now it will only live on my computer, hidden in a file. I am still quite proud that I wrote it, but it's just not to be read. I think almost every author has some book on their shelf that they wrote, but won't share.
I do want to share a small excerpt with you. It's one of my favorite scenes in the book, towards the end. As a little background, Evelyn was raped and became pregnant with the baby of her rapist. She refused to ask for help and kept it a dark secret until she miscarried. This scene is where she tries to understand what has happened to her. (Also, it is Good Friday and she's in a church. It does fit.)
The inside of the building was warmer than the December wind that had threatened to bite my wounded skin. I walked down the maroon carpet, leaving wet shoeprints. Pushing open the heavy oak door to the sanctuary, I looked at the dark pews and faded light coming in through the stained glass images of Christ and the cross. When I was younger, I used to stare at those windows for hours and now I could barely glance at them. Resting my hand on my empty stomach, I knelt on the floor in front of the pulpit. Tears trickled down my cheeks as I stared at the wooden cross on the wall behind the grand piano. Was God still there now?
God didn’t answer.
“I still believe in you and I want to know that you love me, but God… why did you take my baby from me? I want her back. Please.”
In my heart, I knew that the silence and peace of the sanctuary was my only answer. I couldn’t have my baby back. God was showing me that he wanted me to know that he was in control and I wasn’t. My life hadn’t been in control since that fateful day in October when my fairy tale ended.
“God, answer me!” I screamed, bending over as the emptiness in my heart filled me. “Please say something! Anything! I need to know why I am suffering!”
Looking up with angry tears cascading down, I saw my answer. Hung upon the wall with a crown of thorns on top was the cross. On that cross an innocent man had died. Whatever I was suffering, God has felt it a million times over. His only son died upon a cross like a criminal when all he had done was come to love and teach us. I may have lost my baby, but God lost the world through Adam and Eve and to save to the world he sacrificed his son. I was a fool. God loved me even more at this moment and he was cradling me in his arms, comforting me like a small child that tripped and scrapped a knee. Sobs exploded from my chest as I wished that I could be whole again.
“I’m sorry Father. I’m sorry that your son had to die for someone like me.”
Do have something that you wrote and it's hidden in a computer file?