Items of Joy by Rachel Johnson (the giving tree read aloud .txt) 📕

going on that should. Whatever it was, it scared her. She was being dragged. It was like she could feel the pavement underneath her limp body even though she was in the clouds. Then Amithsera was running, or floating at high speeds, towards her.
“Stop!” screamed the cat.
“Why? She doesn’t belong here and you know that. She should be up,” said Thomas.
“But, we need her.”
“You can’t have her.” And then there she was, in a place flooded with light. But it was cold light, a light that belonged in a hospital.
“Hold on,” said that same voice that had dragged her the night before.
“To what?” the girl asked.
“To the light.” And then she felt the light surround her and flow through her. She didn’t have to hold on to the light, the light was holding on to her. It was squeezing her muscles back to life. And it was reviving her. It was turning her into something she had only read about in books, a spirit. Then the light let go. She could fly now like Amithsera but better, faster. It was like she was in deep water, completely weightless. But she could move like one couldn’t possibly move in water. She could run. She was running and not growing tired.
Then she woke up, she was sitting up in her bed on a Sunday morning.
“You did the right thing,” said Thomas.
“I know, but I’ll miss her. Besides, she was having so much fun being a spirit,” Amithsera wined.
“It wasn’t her time,” he whispered back.
“Who’s there,” cried the girl. Then there was silence, absolute silence. She then realized that everything that had happened wasn’t supposed to happen. But she was okay with not being a spirit. She now had her whole life ahead of her and she was going to make it worthwhile.
“Good morning mom!” she called.
“Good morning Christie.”
And then she saw it, her second item of joy. One of her mom’s earrings was placed on the kitchen counter and the sun was shinning through the window right on it. As it glistened she was amazed. She was amazed how she had never noticed the intricate pattern that was engraved on the earring. It was as if an angel’s wings had shed a feather. And that feather had fallen on the earring, making its mark on the earring’s surface.
Then, some fifty years later, the girl still saw items of joy. As she grew older the sightings increased. Then, at the age of eighty-seven, she died in her sleep.
“Welcome, we’ve been waiting for you.”

Chapter 3 - Rebecca

“Lie down my baby dear,
Don’t cry don’t shed a tear.
Just dream of the sea,
And of a used to be.
Dream of a place where people are free!”

Some would say that a mother’s last words are comforting and will help you deal with the pain after her death. Other people would say that I was too young when she died and because of that I shouldn’t have to feel pain. But they just don’t understand. When I was four years old my mother was executed because of her faith. She was a Christian, and for some reason unknown to me the government decided that they didn’t want Christians in their country. So they killed her. To my everlasting shame I do not feel pain because of missing her, or wishing she was here on this earth. I feel pain because I am mad at her and God. She didn’t take me with her to wherever she was going and God didn’t save her from torture and death. Her so-called “Christianity” didn’t save her. So why should I become a Christian and believe what she believed, when it abandoned her just when she needed it most?
After she died, I lived with my dad for the longest 6 months of my life. He wouldn’t talk to me at all and never cried or showed any signs of emotion. Then after six months of living with a zombie, my dad killed himself, leaving me in an orphanage. So now, at the age of fourteen, ten years after my life was dramatically changed, I still live in the orphanage. No relatives ever claimed me or even acknowledged that I exist. I plan to go to London, England as soon as I get released from this prison. I want to be rich and free from anyone and everyone, just four more years until I’m eighteen and can leave. I have saved up every penny that I own and I have enough for a plane ticket with some leftover. Then I’ll get a job as a waitress or something and save up enough to go to a good college. But it’s only a dream. Besides, if someone adopts me than all my dreams are ruined. Four more years is all I need…

“Stop! No! You can’t do this! Stop!”
And then I wake up as usual. The dream that I have every night still haunts me. I am back at the place that my mother was hung at. I am screaming but no one can hear me. I try to stop them from hurting her but I’m always too late. By the time I reach her she is dead. I keep hoping that I will stop dreaming that dream but it never goes away. I also keep hoping that when I move out of the town that it all happened in my memories will also go away. But that will never happen. My memories will stay with me forever. And in only two more years I can live with these memories in London…

“Goodbye, we will miss you.”
“I will miss you too,” I reply to my crying friends even though it isn’t completely true. Because I am finally free to live my life somewhere else. I am eighteen and on my way to England.
On the way to the airport I can hardly contain my excitement. I am on my own now.
“Please fasten your seatbelt and remember that there is no smoking on this aircraft. We hope you have a pleasant flight,” says the stewardess into her microphone. My stomach starts to turn as the plane is lifted into the sky. I can hardly breathe.
“We seem to be having some technical difficulties,” says a nervous stewardess. “For your own safety, please put on the life vest that is located under your chair, pull on the strings and it will self-inflate. However, please wait to do this until we are out of the plane. We will be making an emergency landing soon.”
Then I realized what was happening. We were crashing. Frantically I reached under my seat to find my life vest. But it wasn’t there. I tried to call a flight attendant but everyone was panicking so much that she couldn’t hear me over the noise. Then it happened. The plane lurched downwards towards the sea.

“Where am I?” I asked.
“You are in a hospital. You were in a plane crash about a week ago. Do you remember it? Do you know who you are?” asked a strange voice.
“No,” I replied as I began to panic.
“You have lost your memory. It might be permanent but we don’t think so. All of your belongings were lost at sea. However, your name was found in the airline records.”
“What is my name?”
“Rebecca Stone.”
“No, that can’t be my name. I don’t belong here. Take me home,” I whispered.
“I’m afraid we can’t do that.” The doctor replied.
“Please,” I begged.
“You will need to stay in the hospital for another two weeks while you recover. The airline has paid for all of your medical bills and after that you are free to go.”
Then I seemed to fall back into unconsciousness.
“Stop! No! You can’t do this! Stop!”
I was running towards something. Everything was so fuzzy. It was like I was watching everything happen from somewhere else, like it wasn’t me that was running. Then I awoke to the same hospital room. I knew that the dream I had had was important. I couldn’t let myself forget it. Whatever it was had something to do with my past. My past, the only thing I had to call my own.
After the longest week in my new life, I was released. I had no money, no friends, no job, no home, well, except for the hotel the airline had supplied for me, and no memory. All I knew was that I needed to keep going. The doctor had told me to come back to the hospital in 5 days just to see how my memory recovery was coming. Then I saw a sign that said, “Waitress Wanted!” Underneath had a bunch of details like where the restaurant was and how much they would be paying. So I went to see about a job.
“Do you have any experience being a waitress?” asked the manager.
“Well, I’m not sure. I am currently suffering from memory loss,” I replied.
“Ah! That’s not something I hear everyday. Well I’ll tell you what; I’ll give you a trial run of one week. If you do a good job then your hired, if not, your fired.”
“Hired or fired, got it,” I said. And I had the job. I was going to start the very next morning at 6.
That night I dreamt that same dream where I was running, trying to stop something. But I couldn’t figure out what it was that I was trying to stop. It was so frustrating not knowing anything. At least I had a job to focus on. Maybe that would help me remember something, maybe not. The week went by pretty quickly, I got the job, and I saw the doctor. But I didn’t remember anything. Nothing.
Then one day, a man came into the restaurant. He seemed so carefree, so happy. I was curious as to what his secret was. I hurriedly went over to his table to take his order.
“Hello, what can I get you?” I asked, trying to smile.
“Um, I’ll have a BLT,” he said.
“How do you do it?” I wondered aloud.
“Excuse me? How do I do what?”
“I’m sorry. Just, how can you be so happy it seems. I mean life is so confusing. And it seems like you don’t have a care in the world.” And he told me about Christianity, about things that fascinated me. He also told me about how Jesus died for our sins and that we don’t have to be scared about dieing or not knowing your past, in my case. He said that I should come to the church this Sunday. So I did.
That morning I got dressed and out the door in seconds. I didn’t want to be late. I was so excited