A Question Mark In Time, Melissa Willingham [ebook reader screen .TXT] 📗

said, "They called you a drunk and
a whore, Mommy, what does that mean?"
Before I could think of how to answer
or even manage a response, she said
"Poor Mommy, please don't cry
it doesn't matter what they say because
I love you so much and whatever
you are, I want to be that way, too
because I want to be just like you"

Glancing down at my precious, little girl
as she stared up at me adoringly
her eyes so full of innocent trust
I prayed silently to myself
"Dear God, what have I done
I'm supposed to set an example
instead look what I've become"

After I managed to compose myself
I gazed upward and made a vow
"For her sake, I will change
I promise you, Lord, I will

Help me to be the mommy she needs
help me to undo all the damage
it's time to erase the harm I've done
it's time to correct all my mistakes"

Her words, they hit me so hard
my breath caught in my throat
her words stabbed me to the core
and the tears began to pour

I pulled her protectively into my arms
wishing I could shield her from the truth
I said, "Mommy's been a bad girl, baby
but God will teach mommy how to be good"



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Wildfire

Upon arriving at Yellow Mountain in Nebraska two weeks ago, Preston was filled with apprehension. He had come to satisfy his curiosity about Madeleine. Known as a legend in her own time, she was a scientist who’d been instrumental in some ground-breaking discoveries.

Rumor had it that she’d died last winter, during icy temperatures, yet no one had ever discovered her body. He was searching for explanations to her disappearance. While staying in her former cabin, he strongly sensed her presence. The hoot of an owl and the dark of the moon both bore the signs of her imminent return.



Widow on the Hill

High atop a mighty mountain, nestled in a canopy of trees and shrouded by darkness, stands an imposing yet stately mansion. Only one occupant remains within its haunted, shadowy walls, a lovely lady, Laura, who one had laughter and happiness in her life.

But, the illusions were shattered one night when death came to visit the glamorous manor, leaving only destruction in its wake. Scarred and crippled by an accident, she’s left to wander the spooky corridors alone. Unexpectedly, an investigative reporter, Tyler, appears attempting to solve the accusations and speculation surrounding her. Oh, she has waited for so long.



Sleeping for Two Decades

Years ago, they gave up on her when she was still in her prime. They spoke and behaved as if she’d run out of time. She allowed herself to believe them for a while, swallowing their negativity and lies for a season. Sometimes she even entertained thoughts of giving up her unproductive life.

But, there was always a force guiding her along, strengthening her for the journey she’d undertake. She held onto faith and belief in her own abilities. Suddenly, after sleeping for two decades, she finally awoke as forty loomed near. At last, she began pursuing her lifelong dreams.



Master Storyteller

Lozeffa Weatherford was my great-grandmother and the person I looked up to. She was affectionately called “Dodie”, by her husband Roy. She used to babysit me when my mother, Brenda, was working.

I would spend my days with her, following her around while she busied herself on their small makeshift farm. She showed me how to ‘slop the hogs’ and get eggs out from under angry, clucking hens, without getting pecked.

She and my great-grandfather always ‘went to bed with the chickens’ and ‘got up with the chickens’. This meant they went to bed early and got up early. I called them ‘Maw Maw’ and ‘Paw Paw’.

Sometimes Maw Maw would fix breakfast on an old wood cook stove and later prepare dinner in a regular oven. We would always have to be quiet whenever we ate because Paw Paw didn’t believe in speaking at the table.

During the afternoon, after chores were completed, we’d sit outside on the porch or in the house and watch the news. They didn’t watch regular television much.

I used to sit at Maw Maw’s feet and beg her to tell me her stories about the ‘olden days’. She was an excellent storyteller and could spin a good yearn effortlessly. I requested the same stories over and over and she never tired of telling them to me.

My favorite story she shared was about how she used to walk to and from school. She said a ghost light by the railroad tracks used to follow her. She believed it was a man’s ghost who’d been killed there. She said he was protecting her.

I also loved it when she talked to me about God, Jesus and the Holy Spirit. She was a firm believer in Heaven and her faith made quite an impact on me. Imprint

Text: Cover Design by Crystal Clear
Publication Date: 08-25-2011

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