Sorry to everyone who is waiting on my Lord of the Rings story. I am stuck, and also need to change some things...a lot of things. But here is another quick fan fiction, to enjoy. It is a Parabaloni story, and not connected to the other one, (At least not yet. I may add things later)
I want to thank every one who had followed me, and any of my stories. It means a lot to me.
I do not own any of the characters. Not even the ferret. Catherine Gruben Smith does. By the way, I highly recommend her books. All of her books.
November 1, 18:12
Peter Aziz knelt on the dirt ground outside of the small house, his Bible in front of him. The young Saudi lowered his head, letting out a shaky sigh. There was a sudden gust of wind, and Peter put his hand on his Bible pages. His eye caught on highlighted verses, Blessed are they that mourn: for they shall be comforted. Blessed are they which are persecuted for righteousness' sake: for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Peter sat silently, letting the words wash over him, healing his soul. Today marked a full year away from his family, from the home he loved. But it also marked the day that his life was changed in a way that was beyond compare, the day he found the love of a God who was willing that all come to him. A God who gave hope to the ones who were led away into the hands of enemies.
The Saudi shivered as a breeze cut over him, and his black ferret, Abir, ran to his side, burrowing into his arm. Even in the Middle East the winter nights were cool, especially as he had spent the day out side, under the sun. Peter closed his eyes for a moment, thanking his Savior for the day. After brushing his hand over the pages of his Bible, and picking up Abir, he stood, moving towards the door of the small house Benjamin Smith, the leader of the small Anti-terrorist band, had rented. Peter opened the door, and slipped inside, sighing in resignation as he heard the sounds of his companions who were drunk.
He knew he should be grateful that they had saved him from the slums of Hungary eight months ago, but he was having a hard time. A verse came into his mind suddenly, and he chuckled. God would work everything out, and His ways were not Peter's ways. He moved into the kitchen, hopping to find something to eat, but a quick search found the cupboards bare. Peter smiled ruefully, his team seemed to have forgotten of his appetite again. He made his way towards the back of the house, passing the living room with his team mates as he did. The four men lounging around ignored him, and he moved unhindered to his room. As he opened the door, Abir slid from his grasp, and ran down his leg. Peter sank on the bed, watching as the black ferret scurried around the room, sniffing at the ground.
Peter wondered what his nineteenth birthday would bring. He thought back to his last birthday, when he was still week from his test of faith, a week before, alone in a strange land. He had no papers saying he was allowed to be in the land, since he left his papers when he fled Saudi Arabia. He had no idea what would happen next week on his birthday, but he lay back on his bed, secure in the knowledge that his Father in Heaven had everything in control, even if his father on earth didn't.