I'm not really sure where this came from. But enjoy anyway.
James remembers the expression on his face. He had stumbled into the small bathroom and stared at his ragged reflection. His eyes were red from crying, face sunken in and tired, his clothes limply hung off his gangly body. There was a sinking feeling of dread and guilt in the pit of his stomach. Intense feelings of betrayal and confusion clouded his usually sharp mind. He was living a nightmare and yet he just couldn't wake up.
James Hathaway had left the seminary.
He can still see the look in his eyes. There was a haunted and pained look, although he remembers the fear most of all. The raw fear. There was nothing for Hathaway. Nothing to look forward to, work for, nothing to live for really. It was all over. His lifetime calling ended before it even started.
That was the night James lost everything that had meaning. His once strong faith had been broken. No, not broken. Smashed. It had been smashed into millions of pieces, with no hope of repair. The strong beliefs were fatally crushed by some kind of cruel force.
Hathaway recalls his reflection of that night. He thinks about it quite often, probably too often for his own good. Sometimes, on particularly bad days, he feels those same emotions again. Suddenly he is back in that bathroom, staring his face. Suddenly that fearful glimmer returns to his eyes.
But James takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. Then the reflection is gone.
Wow. That was some serious angst there. I'm going to have to post something happy soon….[and something longer. I don't know what's up with the short oneshots all of a sudden.]
Oh, would you be so kind as to review?