Double The Irony

It's Fiction Fridays, and Patty from Patterings is graciously allowing me to be hostess. I'm so excited! To learn more about her meme, click here.

To post your own fiction or to read others today, just go to cute lil old Mr. Linky at the bottom of this post:

Double The Irony
How ironic, I dare say. My cross necklace, which represented my newly found freedom in Christ, was tangled up in knots. I slammed the heirloom piece down on the bathroom counter and looked up at my blurry face in the mirror. Just like your life, Sandy. It’s your senior year. You’re supposed to be having the time of your life, but instead, your life’s a mess.

That was the day I decided I wouldn’t hide the truth any longer. The difficult part, though, would be convincing my friend Tamara to do the same. We'd both shared the same secret for two years, and that meant we’d shared each other’s pain as well. So it was double the knots. But I’d heard on the Christian radio that morning, “And the Truth shall set you free...” I was desperate to be free.


“No way, Sandy. I won’t tell anyone about it. And if you do, our friendship is done, ya hear?”

After an hour of heartfelt pleading, she refused to budge. I sighed with frustration. “How can you say that? After all we’ve been through? Tamara, you're my best friend. I love you. I just can’t live this way anymore.” My lips and hands were numb from trembling.

Tamara had a comeback for everything. “Well, you think you’re bad-off now, just wait until you tell. You’re going to make everything worse.”


Tamara was right. Just five days later, I wanted to kill myself. I chose to tell the truth, and all that came back at me were accusations. Wishing I could curl up as tight as the knot in my stomach, I sobbed on my bed. Alone. My foster parents didn’t believe me, and my best friend had abandoned me. Once again, I was an outcast. And the jerk gets off the hook. Of course he does, he coaches the winning volleyball team in the state. "So much for the truth setting me free."

Over the next several months, I survived while Tamara thrived. I quit the volleyball team. Tamara became captain. My grades went down. Hers went up. I was the school freak. She was the Homecoming queen candidate. She had dared to keep the secret, while I'd opted to tell the truth, and it was obvious that her dare had trumped the truth.

It was double the pain.

My loneliness led me back to the one place where, years before, I had felt accepted: my youth group. Completely broken, I felt I had nothing to lose. “I have a prayer request,” I squeaked. There I was, asking for something when I had ignored multiple attempts by different members of the group to befriend me in the past.

They, without hesitation, surrounded me. As warm hands touched my shoulders, my arms and my sides, one of my peers prayed, “Lord, give Sandy your strength. Keep her close to You. And Lord, please untangle the mess of this whole situation.” Near strangers shed tears with me, and none of us could have been more shocked with the moments following.

“Hey everyone. Everyone, could I ask you to listen to Jaimee for a minute? She has something to say,” our youth group leader announced.

Waves of “Sure,” “Absolutely,” “Of course,” rippled through the air before thick silence consumed the room.

Jaimee, who I had always considered a self-assured person, looked horribly unsure of her decision to speak. Several brave swallows later, her words tumbled out clumsily. “I—I—Ohh.…” She looked down at her sneakers, stole a deep breath and said, “I need to tell you all that I was also harassed by Coach Daniels. I just never had the courage to tell anyone. Until now…and I know there have been several others—at least.” A bright blue mascara trail streamed down her cheeks.

I couldn’t breathe. Then the thought occurred to me. That’s why she quit the team last year. It had nothing to do with her grades. Then, several others? Could it be true?

All of us gathered round Jaimee the same way everyone had surrounded me earlier. This time, I prayed. Right in front of her, I grabbed both of her clammy hands and prayed the best I knew how. “Oh God, thank you for Jaimee. Thank you, that even knowing how much it may cost her, she has dared to tell the truth. And Lord, may the truth bring peace—and—freedom. For both of us." And for Tamara too, Lord, I prayed silently from the depth of love I still had for her in my heart.

As I opened my eyes after the final Amen, I couldn’t help but notice the cross necklace Jaimee wore. It didn’t have a single knot. I dare say, how ironic.


Reference: John 8:32




In the Key of HE,

Sock It To Me!

***Posted for Patty Wysong's Fiction Fridays. For more great fiction, click here: http://pattywysong.blogspot.com

As mom and wife, it was uncomfortable. Being in the middle of a conflict, that is--one that I probably had some to do with creating myself. Too late now, though. I'll just have to let the consequences unfold.

“DAD, This is so lame,” our daughter Alyssa said as she stormed into our room. Her mouth proved itself teen-worthy.

My husband responded. “Lame, huh?”

“You have no right to barricade my room, Dad,” she barked, “blocking off my closet and drawers with bright orange tape!”

I held back the giggle that was begging to come out and ducked out of the room as inconspicuously as possible.

“I should’ve done it a long time ago, Alyssa,” Steve argued back. “I’ve told you a hundred times that as long as you’re living in this house, you will keep your room picked up.”

Alyssa huffed as her heavy feet spoke on her behalf all the way back to her room. “It’s not FAIR!” she screamed while tearing down the barrier to her room.

Exasperated, Steve came into the living room where I was working a crossword puzzle. “I’m so tired of this, Elaine.” My side of the loveseat sprung me in the air as he sat down beside me.

“Ok, Dad,” Alyssa walked into the room in submission. “I get the point.”

He stood up and touched her shoulder tenderly, “Alyssa, I warned you that if you didn’t get your room clean by last weekend that you would be punished. I’ve given you grace all week, but now I’ve got to ground you until it’s finished.”

“WHAT?!? But that’s not fair!” Her mascara-stained cheeks were about to see a new jet-black trail of tears.

Alyssa’s younger brother always walked in at the perfect time. “What’s goin’ on?” he spouted off cluelessly.

“None of your business, Caleb!” Alyssa stomped off a second time and slammed her door when she reached her construction zone.

Caleb looked dumbfounded. “What’s wrong with her?”

“The same thing that’s going to be wrong with you in a minute,” Steve warned.

“What'd I do?”

“You promised me two weeks ago that you would pick up all the Play Station discs laying around in the game room,” he scolded. “Some of them have huge scratches now.”

“K, Dad. I’ll do it later.” He turned around and started to strut out of the room.

“No, son,” my husband corrected, “you’ll do it now.”

He made one last attempt. “Mom, tell Dad he’s being lame…”

I stood up and tried to look serious. “No, Caleb. He’s right.”

“What a way to spend a weekend,” he sassed as he made his exit.

Steve spent a good while pouring out his heart to me after that. “It’s like nobody wants to do their work, Lainey. That can’t be God’s best for our family.”

“You’re right, Steve,” I consented.

He turned his face to me and looked me straight in the eye. “Are you in a defensive mood today?”

“Uh,” I hesitated, “I’m ok—shoot!” I tried to belt out positively.

“Well, it’s like that pile of socks in our room. I know you don’t like me to help with the laundry, Hon, but honestly, I don’t think I can stand it anymore….”

He sat down again and shuffled through my almost-completed crossword magazine.

“What? You don’t like having them all in one place to choose from?” I winked at him.

I could tell he felt disgusted with himself for even mentioning it.

“Well, do you mind finishing my puzzle for me, sweetie? I’ve got a sock-ade to tackle!” I looked at him with a loving twinkle in my eye.

He stood up and gleamed, “I’d much rather help a beautiful lady with a horribly boring task, so…sock it to me!”

“How ‘bout you go pick us up some tacos instead?” I pleaded. “Looks like we’re all going to be working into the evening.”

“Deal!” He grabbed his keys and skipped out of the room. “And she still won’t let me help with the laundry,” he muttered under his breath.

As I separated the mound of socks in our bedroom, I admitted to the Lord that I was having a difficult time completing the mundane tasks around me and asked for His help.

My prayer was interrupted by three loud honks outside the window. Alyssa, Caleb and I ran out the door only to see Steve’s car dead in the middle of the street.

“The car is out of gas!” He yelled. “I thought I could make it to a gas station before I ran out.”

Pushing the car back into the driveway, we all had a good laugh. Steve was a good sport, although…

…The kids really socked it to him.