David's Heart: Short Stories of Struggle and Triumph

By Jennessa Bono

This book follows the life of David in "Unwilling Birth," Daniel in "Daniel's Hope," and John in "Welcome Home." The book follows the lives of these characters through their struggles of violation, love, and finding in themselves the strength and courage to fight the evils in their lives and the lives of their families.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Nov 7, 2010
• ISBN: 9781452090498

Jennessa Bono

Jennessa Bono has been writing for many years. She writes from the heart, and explains her experiences, pain, and victories in the lives of the characters she creates. She lives in Albuquerque, New Mexico, and continues to write about her harrowing experiences of loss, love, and triumph.

Book preview

David’s Heart

SHORT STORIES OF STRUGGLE AND TRIUMPH

JENNESSA BONO

missing image file

AuthorHouse™

1663 Liberty Drive

Bloomington, IN 47403

www.authorhouse.com

Phone: [phone]

© 2010 Jennessa Bono. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

First published by AuthorHouse 10/25/2010

ISBN: 978-1-4520-9050-4 (s)

ISBN: 978-1-4520-9049-8 (e)

Printed in the United States of America

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

This book is printed on acid-free paper.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any Web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

CONTENTS

THE DARK AND LIGHT TIMES

PART TWO

PART THREE

PART FOUR

PART FIVE

THE DARK TIMES- AND THE LIGHT HOPE

WELCOME HOME

PTSD- SEQUEL TO WELCOME HOME

UNWILLING BIRTH

THE RECOVERY

FORGIVENESS

PREGNANT

JOHN’S FREEDOM- SEQUEL TO PREGNANT

DANIEL’S HOPE

PART TWO

THE CHALLENGE

THE CHILD

THE BABIES

THE DARK AND LIGHT TIMES

I am so angry- I have never been so angry in my entire life. I have my sword. That is almost my only defense. I have traveled the land so many times, and I have found nearly nothing to tell me that everything’s fine. I am the last of my clan. The rest were killed by the evil race my father thought he could defeat. The last time I was at his grave, which I had to dig, I spit on it in disgust.

My mother is a prisoner of the half human half cockroach creatures that were my father’s enemy, and I do not want to find her. I did when I was a child, but bitter experience has taught me to forget your relatives, because they also forget about you. They wanted me to submit to the evil Butus, and become their sex slave for life to save my race, but I refused. Being the chosen of your race, does not always mean a wonderful thing is happening to you. This time, my enemies were also my so-called friends.

I ran from them, the tender age of six, and never returned. I hated them, and only returned in shadow in the far away land of Walyth for my no-good father’s funeral. I hated them for selling me into slavery that would take my soul, and so I ran. All I had now was my sword and my confidence in myself and my God, Jesus. It was an old religion, and hardly anyone followed it anymore, but I didn’t care. It was the truth for me, and I would not leave it behind for anyone.

I would soon be getting towards my stronghold, the Arndeth Cascade, and I would spend the night there, my sword at my side, as in every night. No one could tell me what to do and what to say, and I would stand by that, no matter what happened. I could see the sun falling in the western sky, like old Earth, and I smiled softly, one un-bitter thought in a mind that had been full of hopelessness, but determined thoughts for so long. I would not give up, not until I got her back. My soul, the person, like me, who had been stolen from me so long ago. I was 12 years old when the ceremony was performed, and I could feel the horrible strain as my soul was taken and put in a small bowl, as all of my races children’s souls were. You see, it was said that it would make us better soldiers, and that our souls would just slow us down and make us weak. This, in my souls’ opinion, was evil, and the root of all that was evil about my race, and why the Butus hated us so much.

There was a time when the Butus were the evil ones, and the Gorn were the one’s that were free, but those times had been long over, and I was the last, or one of the last, that believed that I, and my soul, were meant to be together. My mother’s soul had been returned to her, but, she was an unwilling participant in the ceremony that made them one, and so, she and her soul, as far as I know, are estranged, and not yet together. It was my mission, a mission that I had been given by my own joy and hope, to return my family’s souls to them. Then my father died, and nothing had been done since then, nothing that I could see, and all our souls had been stored by the evil cult Janes, for centuries.

Now, however, there was a difference. I had found it, the place where the old damn cult had stored every soul, and I had moved it. Now, now my mission was to return the souls of my people to each individual, and save my race. However, since many of my people had died, I would have to change their bodies, make them new, and give them new bodies, from scratch. Knowing that I was not God, I had made an un-easy alliance with a Butus, and he had begun making artificial bodies, bodies, however, that could reproduce, and so, begin what he gorily called a body farm. Every body he created by machine was different, and I had already chosen my father’s, brother’s, and sister’s bodies. My brother in law and nieces bodies were still being created, but I could wait. I had waited twenty years, and I could wait some more months for what I loved to come to pass. My mission now was to keep the souls, all the souls, safe, like the great swords that protects Eden. I was the protector of my race, and I embraced my charges, with a passion that I had only had when I and my soul were one. I would go to the Butus that night, before resting in my stronghold, and check on his progress. He would make excuses, and I would threaten him, and he would laugh at me, and I would threaten him again. Eventually I would get what I wanted, my family, their souls, and my home back. There was an old saying, home is where the heart is. I laughed at it, and I jeered at it. I had never had a home, and my family had never loved with their souls, with them intact. I wanted to laugh forever, but he was approaching, and I became straight-faced and stoic. My heart sank as he smiled, his face disgustingly blue, and his hair long and white. He spoke in a low, gross voice.

How are you this evening Jennessa?

I raised my sword and looked him straight in the eye.

What’s your progress old man?

His face straightened and he looked at me.

Your niece is finished, ready and waiting.

I lowered my sword slowly.

Good, show me.

The butus smiled again and motioned me inside. I followed the stench of flesh and heat in my nose, and held my breath and exhaled slowly. They were finished, nearly all of them. They sat, in stasis, all there in a row. My mother was not among them, she still a prisoner of the Butus, probably relishing as a slave of one of the Lord’s. I snickered in disgust, and really just looked at the body of my newly completed niece, almost smiling, but not.

Do you like her?

The voice came from behind me. I did nothing, simply looking at my niece, and finally spoke.

Yes, she is sufficient.

I turned around and faced the butus. He frowned at me.

What is the matter?

I raised my sword.

I want my brother-in-law completed in a week.

The butus looked at me in surprise.

Well, that will cost you.

We looked at each other, and he continued.

I need nanites, a lot of them.

I spoke slowly.

How many?

Two thousand.

I waited a while, and nodded.

Done. I will have them for you in three days. Just WORK.

The butus nodded and smiled, motioning me out of his stinking house. I was grateful, I wanted to leave. I turned, smiling softly at the body of my niece, and walked out, always mindful of the presence of the butus behind me. It was not until I left his property that I sighed in relief, and reached my stronghold in one piece. The animals would be out tonight, and I would be ready. That would be dinner for the next five days.

The night was blue and beautiful, and the boar was right in front of me. I stuck him, and he squealed. I would eat hardy tonight.

–

The day dawned slowly, as every day did here, and I woke, a sneer smile on my face. He would have worked all night on my brother-in-law, and he would have gotten him nearly finished on the inside. Now it was time to find my own allies, the ones that would stand with me in the fight against the cult of Janes, and would defeat them, once and for all. There were only five of them left, but fear was their weapon, and they used it efficiently. Nearly no one would go near the great temple and no one would dare address the great priests. I spit in their faces, those bastards, and they would all die by my hand.

I hated them, all those people who worshipped at the temple, every day, giving a little bit more of their soulless bodies to the five damn and horrible men that ran this planet. But I would not be one of them; I would never give them anything. I would die first, my body, after my soul.

I smiled as I reached my stronghold and began cooking my boar dinner. I ate heartily, because tomorrow would be a long, hard day.

I was nearing his house. I would need to bow to the old fool. That was his way, and I respected that, to a point. I would never give him anything that was truly mine, my soul, that has been unwillingly given anyway, and my body, and my defense, my sword, that was my friend and helper. He came just then, waving friendly at me, and I raised my sword in response. He nodded and motioned me in his house, just as the butus had done. His house was human, rather than butus and it always smelled of home-made chili. I enjoyed it, but never let my guard down. I would never do, because every man would use me, just as the cult had, and just as my family had. I would never allow that.

I looked at him, his face shaggy and his clothes the same. He was a refugee, just, or almost just, as I. I would never be the same, not after what had happened to me, what had happened to all of us, to my entire race. It was my job, and I had never forgotten my mission. I sat down in the chair that he had motioned me to, my sword still in my hand. He sat beside me, something that I always hated. He looked at me, and then motioned towards the refreshments that he had made to ease our meeting. I shook my head and declined his offer. It was bad for business, but I did not trust his food. He nodded, and we began to speak.

How is the butus doing with your family, small one?

I grimaced on the inside. I hated that he called me that, but he was fifty years older than I, and he was also a good alley, so I did not protest outwardly.

‘He is almost done, old man. I have not seen the keeper of the souls lately, the bastard. Have you?"

The man nodded.

He has been out, trying to steal all our crops for the annual feast. This is something we cannot, and will not allow. It is our livelihood. You know this, small one, and I trust you will fight with us?

I nodded, ready to fight the brotherhood any time, and for any reason. I would fight with my allies, to protect what crops and animals we had to eat in the wild lands, and lands that we had managed to keep safe from them. The man smiled, and began to eat the refreshments that he had provided. I looked, and began to speak of the nannites I needed to pay the bastard I worked with. He nodded his head in interest, and waited a while before answering on whether he would help me collect them.

He nodded, and I sighed slowly and deeply inside. He was the only one that I remotely trusted. I knew he could do it, and he was also the only one that could find the damn things. He began drawing something on his hand. I could not, and did not want to see what it was. I knew it was important, but believed, ever so slightly, that he would tell me what it was in his good time. He looked at me with one of his grotesque smiles, and I wanted to look away in disgust, but forced myself to smile back. It was business, and I could not afford to let this slide.

It is a map to the cave where the nannites live. Will you follow me to the location this day, small one?

I forced myself to look curiously at his hand. I saw the location, and knew the place, and nodded slowly. I would go with him, and he would lead me to the place I could conquer the damn cult, free my family, and retrieve my soul. This would be the time to do it, and I agreed.

The man got up from the couch and nodded, smiling with his grotesque teeth showing in the firelight. He would help me, but he would want something in return. I looked at him, this question in my mind, and my mouth.

What do you want for this?

The man looked at me, the same smile on his face.

I want some clothing, made of Grand Bush, for my woman.

I laughed inside. The old man had no woman, and he would never have a woman, with anything. I remained stoic, however, and agreed to make him clothes for his trouble in helping me. He smiled again, and I nearly gagged. He would want a full outfit, without shoes, and that would be like all of us, running barefoot in a dead and barren land. I scoffed inside, and asked the question.

When do we leave?

He smiled again.

When you finish my wife’s clothing.

I shook my head, picking my sword up meaningfully.

I will start the clothing as we start our journey, do we understand each other?

The man looked at me in anger and disgust.

We are friend’s small one, why do you threaten me?

Because we have been through this before, and I know you, old man.

The man smiled and laughed, nodding. I lowered my sword, and he agreed to my terms. I left his house. We would leave for the cave at nightfall, and this would be the beginning of our journey.

–

The darkness crept over the land slowly, and I was at his house again, and we were ready, the both of us, to disembark. He would have his javelin, something that he carried with him for protection, like I did, and I respected that, but was weary of his movements, hops, and gyrations, so that he would not jump me in the darkness. We walked towards the cave, knowing what we would find there. There were ghosts there. So-called, anyway. They were the leavings of the souls that the cult of Janes destroyed as punishment for my rebellion. I hated that damn cave, and I hated what they had done too many of my race because they were afraid of my success in restoring their souls to them. The nannites were in the rear of the cave, and there were many dead souls in between the old man and myself and our goal. This bothered me, but I did not let on, and let the old man get the upper hand, and use that against me.

We met our first disembodied souls at the entrance to the cave, and I closed my eyes, called on Jesus, and walked through them. It was almost painful, yet I did not feel anything physical. They were friends; some were even relatives that the cult of Janes had taken away from me. My aunt and uncle were there, calling out to me, but I did not respond, because those souls were monitored by that damn cult, and I would give away our position if I responded to their eerie cries. I walked forward, continually calling out to God in my mind, soul (what was left of it) and body. Soon we were in the middle of the cave, and I could begin to see the shinning of the nannites. This encouraged me, but I did not lose my concentration as I continued to walk, sword held at the ready, through the cave. I wanted to save them as well, but I would not have the time, or patience, not yet.

We’re nearly there, are you ready small one?

I closed my eyes tight. I stopped and nodded my head so he could see it, and then began to walk forward again. The souls had died off, their cries, anyway, and were near the front of that damn cave, wanting me to save them. Knowing I couldn’t, not yet, I simply looked at the millions of nannites that covered the cave walls.

I looked at the old man and expected him to act, which he did. He brought out a large bag and nodded at me. I began to scrape the cave walls with my sword, and the old man collected the nannites in the bag. They seemed to scream as they were collected, but became silent as they found each other in the bag. The silence became beautiful, just for a moment, until the bag was completely full, and our task was once again to navigate through that damned cave, through the ghosts, and back to the open land.

We did this slowly, the old man holding the bag over his shoulder, and myself still holding my sword at the ready as the ghosts began to scream again. I closed my eyes and prayed to God. I hated everything at this moment, but I wanted to reach the end of the cave, I wanted to survive, and I did.

The light hit my face, and I smiled, just for an instant, and I could feel that God was with me, no matter how dark it got, he was with me. Everything had grown dusk as we had traveled through the cave and out again, and it was now time to go back to the old man’s house, and finally, back to my stronghold, and rest, eat, and contemplate the state of my family, my race, and my own life.

The meal I had prepared for myself was beautiful. He had eaten this before, but I had given him only a few bites, until he left. The old man had insisted on being my guest at my meal, as payment for helping him get the nannites. I did not agree, nor did it make any sense in the mind, but he insisted, and there was enough, and honestly, the conversation that he would have with me eventually was more interesting to me than the food I would lose to his belly.

He began to talk slowly, and I began to eat faster, not really wanting to listen. Though his conversations were interesting, they were also long, and I was tired, since I did most of the work, chopping all those damned nannites from their walls. He talked about the past, about the light times, before the cult of Janes and the soul harvest. I liked it, but I also hated it, because, not only did I not have time for it, it reminded me of what I had lost, and that I really hated. He ended his story with a story of my father, the one I had buried, and this I could not stand.

Leave old man, my boar has halved because of you.

The man raised his eyebrows and stopped talking, just for a moment.

He loved you, you know.

He had said this only to spite me, and I retrieved my sword from its corner and flashed it at him.

LEAVE, now! He Abandoned me, you bastard! Leave!

The old man put his helping of food on the floor, stood up, and left. This gave me hope that I still had some semblance of sanity, and I began to clean up after my messy houseguest, hoping he would never come again.

–-

The day was bright and beautiful, and the hope in my heart was actually visible to me. I could see that the allies had gathered, and the butus I had befriended was in the middle of the crowd. They were cheering, as though they were about to kill him. I would have loved that, in the old days, and that would be the end of it, but not now, now I needed him.

I ran at a good pace towards the crowd and shouted for them to stop. Eventually, with grumbling and harsh words, they did. I cut into the crowd and ran towards the butus, he was writhing with anguish as he had been teased and belittled by humans most of two hours. He looked at me with loathing, but I said nothing, looking straight back at him, expressionless. He said nothing, and eventually, he countenance became itself again. He nodded at me as a raised my sword for attention. The crowd quieted, and I pointed to the appointed leader of the group. All of us soulless, we did have a mission to complete, one that I had managed to spread about, little by little, in a matter of three days.

I knew it would be hard, and not the best of rebellions, but, it was a start, and every start had a finish. I hoped that this finish would be the one that saw the end of the cult of Janes, and the beginning of the freedom of the people. I saw the appointed leader step forward. He had a mohawk, and he could be heard for miles as he spoke up.

My friends, Jennessa has gathered us here for a purpose, one to save our people, and save our souls!

The crowd had been beginning to quite at that time, but at this announcement, they all resumed their cheering. I smiled and raised my sword again, the only straight weapon there. There were carved forks and knives there, all very old and rusty, but they would work, against our greatest enemy, the cult that simply would not die. This would be the end of them, I could tell in my heart, and my spirit soared like an eagle, and I could see my mother free again, and I smiled, for the first time full of joy, in a long time.

The anointed leader walked with me in the field that had been chosen for battle and execution of the bastards that has taken our souls. This would be a spiritual battle for me especially, as I would be in the background, holding my sword at my side, and praying to God, as the battle raged. The cult of Janes would have spiritual shit at their command, supposedly, but I knew that this would be the end of them, and that prayer would be the thing that destroyed them, once and for all. The body is easy to kill, but the soul would be the last thing that they returned to us, and this would be the victory that we would be a part of, and that would be the mark of everything afterwards.

Have you built your shrine?

I shook my head.

I need no shrine. I will simply bow and pray, and that will protect those in the field of battle. I will start praying three days before we take arms against them. This will clear the field, and give us victory.

The leader shook his head in disbelief.

I do not understand your faith Jennessa, I really don’t, but if you believe, I will support you.

This gave me as much joy as my soulless heart could handle, and I smiled, shortly, at the leader, the man that would lead the battle, but be protected by God as he fought.

So, when do we take arms? The people are nervous and want to fight.

I shook my head. I knew they were not ready.

I must speak to them, tonight. Can you make them wait?

The leader sighed and nodded his head.

Yes, I will allow them to wait, and you must pray for guidance for them. You MUST!

I nodded, and began to squeeze the leader’s hand, not as a leader, but also as a friend. He smiled curtly back, and I released his hand, and walked slowly away, by myself, so that people would know that I was not meddling, but only a friend. The leader walked away in the opposite direction, and we parted ways, knowing, in our hearts, that we were one.

–

My people, come and see what the good woman who brought us here has to say.

I walked towards the middle of the circle of people and took my cue from the leader. I would not speak long, because I knew that God wanted me in his presence for a good three days before the battle, and I needed my space, my time, and my hope to do so. They looked at me. I cleared my throat, and began to speak.

People of the free world, know that God is with us, and we must fight in his will, so listen closely. I will pray and meditate for a good while before you take arms. Three days, to be exact, and then, I will pray as you fight, and, it is my belief and…I even know that God will give us grace to fight, and we will have victory this time, at this moment, at this love, and we will regain what is ours, our very souls!

There were cheers of joy and victory, and the leader smiled at me, and I moved so that he could take the stage as it were. He nodded and spoke to the people.

Two of you take the perimeter and guard or friend as she prays for us.

Two people were quick to volunteer, and there was a man and a woman that were part of the perimeter that would guard the guard of my race. I smiled and nodded to them, thanking them for their love and sacrifice for me.

–-

It would be five minutes until the battle started. I had been praying for three entire days, and I was hungry, tired, and in need of encouragement. They people had protected me, given me hope and peace (such as we could have here, with everything so dangerous), and would soon be tested. But I knew, now more than ever, that God would be victorious, no matter what happened. I would pray until everything was over, no matter what the result. I could see the people in my mind, and I knew that they would fight well, as soon as the people were victorious, we would either be true to ourselves and regain our souls, or die trying. This would be the test that gave us joy, no matter what the outcome.

I prayed as the battle started. There were cries, and I prayed harder. Sweat grew in my breast and I could feel my heart race. The battle was in the heavenly realm, and I knew that I would be exhausted near the end, but would need to continue,