Chapter Two-Hundred and Thirty-Eight
Claire hugged Chance close as she cried, terrified that she would never see John again. Ever since Jacob had taken him, she'd felt lost; like a compass with no magnet to guide her. "His birthday is next week…" She whispered, reaching for his journal and flipping through the pages.
Fate
One day eyes meet across a room,
souls connect even if first words are
harsh. Boundaries broken down and
constant challenges met.
Differences and similarities found,
secrets revealed. Two groups brought
together by fate, we became family by choice.
We walk this road, living through good and bad.
New friends and family members enter
our lives. Hope and dreams discussed
and realized. We ride the waves of life.
I guess we were born under mix signs.
Yes, we walk down life's road,
writing our own stories. Our lives
and voices blend together until new
paths branch off, providing new choices.
While our scars shape our past,
they shouldn't mar our future.
History's pages have been written,
yet blank pages wait to be filled
Hearts unlocked and love taught to
those unused to warmth and tenderness.
The search for one's soulmate, a question
asked by humankind since the dawn of time.
She touched her fingertips over his neat handwriting, trying to dry her tears as they began to drip onto the paper. "Please stay alive…"
John shushed Phoebe as she sobbed into his chest, closing his eyes as he bowed his head so that his lips were right next to her ear. "Hush little baby, don't say a word, Momma's gonna buy to a mocking bird…" He thought of Clarissa, almost able to feel her fingers combing his hair back when he was in pain. "And if that mocking bird won't sing, Papa's gonna buy to a diamond ring…" He remembered Thomas, all the disagreements they'd had, all the times they'd butted heads, but also all the times they'd spent together. The afternoon they'd spent fishing over on Lake Michigan, all the times that he'd crawled into Thomas and Clarissa's bed when he couldn't sleep, the few times he'd actually caught him crying after a relapse. "And-"
"Shut up!" Ben snarled, striking out at John until Jacob gripped his wrist in his hand.
"Don't. That voice, will make us millions." He smiled, and John couldn't help but think of a Disney villain in an animation. "And if it doesn't, we'll always have that fight."
Thanks HMG2000 for the poem! I love your work!