Done 4

 

Done 4

Scavenging through the piles of garbage brought by the trucks in that place, he found a dead man.

That was the scene he could never forget as he stood there watching his men do the job.

"I have promised myself I would not be in that place of the dead man."

One of his men came beside him and almost whispered.

"My lord, it's done."

That word "lord" put him back to his present. He loved the effect of that word to his ego. Nowadays, people uses that word to the one they worship and obey.

And that is how he ever wanted himself to be.

He remembered about his dream in the past.

Done 3 (link)

He narrated it to his friend who became an astronaut.

The man beside him repeated himself. So, he took a deep breath and it came out on top of the big flashlight he held on one hand.

They did the job that night, him and his men.

The writer was standing not too far from them. As usual in his white shirt and denim pants. He did not have a flashlight, just his pen. His white shoes were enough to be his light as he walked on that city garbage dump site.

He was watching them. The men were so confident that no one but them were on the site. None of them has ever noticed the presence of the writer since they arrived in two latest model cars of the season.

He saw two men in the first car. One is the driver and one seated at the back. The other car have four men in it. As they got off from the car, the writer noticed them tall, well structured men and strong, as they went to the back of the car, where they took out a long, zippered plastic bag that was so obvious the size of something  inside it.

"There's a human inside!"

His eyes got big as he realized it and wanted to run, out of impulse. But his feet, neither his mouth stopped him from doing anything. He was hiding behind an old rotten, oxidated car distance away from the men.

That night, only stars were in the sky as the moon seemed too far to be even seen or maybe hiding behind some clouds.

So he did not have any other choice, but to stay as his fingers, he felt, were holding the pen so tightly until it bleeds. 

He looked at his hand to check what's happening. There was blood but he felt no pain. He opened his palm and he saw the pen covered with blood. As he pick it up with his other hand, he saw that his bleeding palm has a hole in it.

"What?"

He looked through the hole to be sure of what he was seeing. He even attempted to put inside it the pen and it did pass through. Quickly he took it back with shock and fear enveloping him.

He turned his attention back to the men, but they were gone. He was distracted that he did not even realize when the men left.

When he checked his hand again, it turned back to normal with his pen being held lightly.

Suddenly a strong thunder flashed across the sky that made the writer almost jumped from his chair. He was back to his reality.

He fell asleep while writing the series. His notebook on top of his working table by the window was almost full. What he had just seen was in a dream.

He looked at his wristwatch and it says three o'clock in the morning. He was still holding his pen in his right hand. He released it beside his notebook.

If it was going to rain, it has not started yet. So he left his chair to go by the window. He peeped up into the sky that night. No thunder, but starry sky.

He decided to get himself his favorite drink, a beer. He opened a bottle and went back to look outside the window.

The sky became like a theatre's big monitor showing him a movie. His eyes was captured.

A man was climbing a ladder with intention to reach the highest step, where he can conceive himself "a conqueror", a god himself. Those were the story of someone, somewhere was whispering to him that he did not bother to check who. He was captivated by the scene. 

The man seemed to be with greed, vanities and high ambitions without limitations to the point of seeing himself worshipped as god.

Once the man has reached the top, he shouted:

 "Now, yes! I am god. I am powerful, rich and immortal!"

But an angel came down from heaven, stroke him a thunder and shouted as well:

"And so you are to deserve this!"

Through a forefinger of the angel came out the thunder that flashed fast and strong across the sky.

In an instance, the man became ashes. The ladder tower collapsed and turned into dust.

The angel just said one word before ending the show:

"Done."

Whatever the writer was watching from the sky, he was interrupted by the big noise down below the window.

Two cars were confronted by two police cars. There were exchanges of gun fires and soon afterwards, he saw six men dead on the streets.

"They were the men on the scavengers dump site!"

The writer moved backward from the window and checked his notebook. All of what he has witnessed were in his story. 

"Oh you, my pen."

He laughed out loud understanding the mystery of his pen. The Pen. Then he went back to look outside the window. Nothing.

It was a silent, starry, starry night.

Feeling relieved he wasn't crazy, just a writer with a crazy, mysterious pen, he sat himself back to his chair to write the ending to The Writer Series 14. Not surprised anymore, it has one.

The pen wrote to end the story:

"If you can't put yourself the limitations, heaven will."

@simplemethepen

Done 3

Round One   :  Done

Round Two   :  Done 2

Round Three :  Done 3

"Wake up!"

The boy who formed his dream to reach the moon through his three triangular toys, tried to wake up his friend who was dreaming and shouting No!

His friend, another boy his age holding his created wooden planes in his hands, was awakened abruptly.

"You are dreaming!"

He said to him, relieved that he opened his eyes.

The other boy lifted himself up as he stretched his legs and back into a sitting position beside him under the tree.

"What was it?"

He asked.

"It was an ugly dream."

The other boy responded.

"Tell me."

He urged him.

So the other boy started to narrate the story of his dream while fixing his gaze to the wooden plane he still has in his hands.

"I found myself in different places where I saw all kinds of weird monuments, altars and buildings.

The friend started while he listened and did not say a word.

"In one city I don't recognize, I saw tall, very tall buildings. They almost reached the sky as I looked at them from the ground."

Both heard a creaking sound somewhere that they turned their heads at the same time, but found no one.

"Each building has designs and paintings of different wild animals as they move upward. Then I saw a big sign saying: The Winner and Ruler of the Year is Cobra!"

He was astonished by his friend's story.

"What do you mean?"

He asked.

"I turned to look for the building with the cobra paintings. It was so high that from the ground you could only see sparks of lights on top. Sounds like a party since it was the only building with music on every floor. Then I realized, it was indeed the highest compared to all the other buildings."

His friend's eyes were showing his unbelievable feelings of what he saw.

"Was there anyone else with you?"

He asked another question.

"No. I was the only one wandering around."

"Weird."

"Yes, weird."

They both agreed. Then the storyteller continued.

"I rubbed the back of my neck because of the strain. I felt closing my eyes and when I opened them again, I was in another city. And it was more weird than the first."

"Tell me more."

His friend took a deep breath before continuing his story.

"I found myself in an intersection where around me were different roads leading to high altars, structures and monuments."

This time, it was his eyes that questioned the friend's story. But he did not say a word.

"At one end of the road, there was a big monument of a coin in golden color."

"Really?"

"Yes! Below it, full of people in glamorous attires worshipping it!"

"What?"

"Well that's nothing compared to the others I saw."

"Like what?"

"Like on the other end of a road I saw an altar with sculptured genitals, human genitals!"

"Whaaat? You mean vagina and penis?"

"Yes! Below the big sculptures in red paint were men and women worshipping them naked!"

Both were speechless for a minute while looking at each other with wide opened eyes of amazement. Then burst into laughter.

The writer behind a distant tree, who made the creaking sound before as he stepped on some dried leaves just shook his head smiling at the two men sharing a laugh. Before his eyes, he was seeing men not boys.

"What else?"

He continued to ask his friend who was telling the story of his dream.

"Then from another road, my attention was called. It was a road filled with different sculptures and monuments of all sorts of things, animals and people."

"Have you seen all of them?"

"No. As some of them were placed inside big structures like altars and each has its own worshippers. I wanted to enter the road to see more of them closely, but as soon as I stepped on a foot, the closest worshippers on both sides wanted to grab me to come with them. That is why I shouted 'No' as I got so scared."

Both of them just kept quiet after the story. They gave their look at the toys they have on their hands.

"I had a dream too."

He told his friends as he put the triangles back on top of the other.

"What was it?"

He took a deep breath and looked at the wooden plane of his friend.

"Your wooden plane lit an idea in my mind. Then I saw the moon."

The writer remembered what he was talking about. The Pen has written about it in Done.

(To read:Tap Done link)

"I saw you there."

It was the writer's mind saying it to himself.

"Tell me your dream."

It was the boy's friend asking him to share his dream. He just smiled.

"In my dream, I became an astronaut."

He started.

(To read: Tap Done 2 link)

"Wake up man! You have more stories to write."

It was Gabrielle.

Like other times, he could only see Gabrielle leaving by the door once he came back from his dreams. 

"Thank you!"

He called to him before the door got closed. He went back to his reading of the book about Kings 1 and 2. The pen beside it.

"Manases became king at twelve years old. Hmm."

He sighed.

(c) bbayonito20/bethbciar

@bbayonito20(Tap to Author's Profile)

Done 2

 

Round 1: Done 

Round 2:  Done 2

"Because I love you!"

He remembered himself saying those words in the garden. He was still a boy when he had a vision and lived below a beautiful garden, wherein God, the Father, watched them from the balcony.

He made a call to the Father and his question for Him came back to him.

"What is it that you're asking for?"

He responded.

"Give me the talent. Show me how. Teach me. I want to show everyone how much more there is in you."

The Father gave him what he had asked for. He was able to convert his vision into a reality. He succeeded.

He remembered what had happened after he talked to the Father. 

The writer stopped. He was trying to remember what his story was referring to.

He closed his eyes and felt like someone whispering something into his ear. 

"He was talking about your story DONE of the Round One Series".

The writer suddenly opened his eyes. Looking around him, there's no one. He shrugged his shoulders and decided to go on writing. But he could not find his pen!

"Where did I put it?"

Bending his head to look for the pen below his table in case it fell, something fell from somewhere.

The Pen!

Then he realized, he put his pen above his right ear as if it was a pen holder. This has been a habit he can never get rid of anymore.

He reached for the previous story of DONE and found his answers.

"He was looking at the plane and to the star. Closing his eyes and creating a vision. When he opened his eyes, they were like the moon!"

The writer asked himself a puzzling question.

"So where is that boy now?"

He looked at this paper and there the answer was already written.

Due to that vision, he found himself floating in outer space with his astronaut suits.

The writer was surprised.

"Oh! He's grown up!"

He went reading what actually he had already written with his pen before he closed his eyes and fell asleep, until he felt like someone was whispering in his ear.

"That was the pen!"

He said to himself, laughed and kissed his pen. Then continue his writing.

Since his childhood, he had that vision to reach a star after watching the first landing of humans on the moon.

Only the Father knew all the truth how he made his vision into reality. Deep in his heart, he kept that strong faith in what he's been working for and strong belief that his mission in life would work out. It did!

"I may not have been praying to you always, my Father, but you know how much I love you."

Then a promise came back to his mind.

"Yes, Father! I promise. I will never forget you!"

Inside his suit's helmet, he cried. He knew he should not. It would cause more air requirements for him to breath and it would run out the oxygen available in his tank provided for the exploration.

He wasn't the main astronaut of the mission. He could not even remember what mission it was. All he remembered, he was in a spaceship. Once in outer space, something had happened. Then he found himself floating alone in the black outer space. He felt happy in some part of him, being there exactly where he had always dreamed of in his vision. 

"To be among the stars!"

His tears of anguish turned themselves into tears of joy.

"My Father, you are always amazing!"

Then the Father's words came back into his mind.

"Well then, my son. Just ask and it shall be given. Seek, and you shall find. Knock, and the door will be opened. Whatever you'll ask me, I'll give it to you."

The memory made him cry again.

"And you did! And you did!"

With the use of the buttons to press in his suit to make him turn wherever he wanted, he was trying to look for something.

Despite the amazing beauty of the universe that he had been observing since he came back to consciousness,  being alone there in space overwhelmed and frightened him helplessly. He called out several times already.

"Where are you? Where are you Father?"

Nothing.

"Forgive me. Forgive me Father, please."

The Father's word was back again unto his mind.

"Just remember this: I love you so much. Repent. My arms will be there waiting to forgive you."

He found relief in those words. He breathed slower and opened his eyes looking upward.

"Wherever you are, I believe. Yes, I believe in you."

Then he fainted. His tank ran out.

The writer wanted to write more, but the pen would not cooperate.

"Oh no! No more ink again?"

So he threw that pen into his Used Pen garbage tin.

The writer's mind was asking a question.

"Will the Father forgive him? Asking forgiveness at the last moment or maybe because of fear?"

He yawned. He was really sleepy already. He fell asleep before and again.

A dream came in. 

In front of him was seated a big pen talking to him.

"Sincerity is the key to make something you ask to be effective. If it is asked with all your heart, mind and soul, there's no reason why you will not get what you want. You just need to believe."

In his dream, the writer smiled at the pen.

"I can't believe you're a talking pen."

Both of them laughed at his remark.

"But I believe what you just said."

The writer said to the pen, and added.

"Just like the moment Jesus has given his forgiveness and promise to take with Him one of those crucified with Him in the Mount of Calvary."

The Pen concluded the dream.

"All you need is to believe. Believe that Jesus is your Savior."

The writer agreed through his snores. He snored loud enough to make the papers on his table fly. This time his face lied on top of his written papers again.

The Pen left his dream and his table.

"Sleep well for what's coming."

 

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Done 3

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@bbayonito20(Tap to Author's Profile)

 

 

 

 

Done

He is the Father of them all. As he is seated in his rocking chair looking below from the balcony, his tears are flowing like a continuous waterfall.

"It is done."

After saying those words, he lays his head against the long back chair and closes his eyes. Everything is coming back to his mind from the beginning.

He was lonely. So he created everything. He gave all that he had.  From deep inside his heart, he extracted all that it contained. But nothing was sufficient to his human creations.

One of them who was there at the garden below the balcony has even asked for the star. That child, a boy, has looked for him to ask for it.

After reaching the point of  putting two triangular shaped toys, one on top of the other, but one on reverse, the boy realized he had created a new thing before his eyes. He came to him and asked a question.

"Father, look!"

He heard his call and searched for him down the balcony with joy as he was remembered by one of his creations. The boy called knowing he was watching them all the time.

"Yes, my son."

The boy showed his two pieces of toys, two triangular shaped toys forming into something new.

"This is beautiful! May I ask you something like this?"

With excitement and eyes glowing, he asked him.

"Of course, my son."

He smiled and his heart jumped gleefully as he observed the faith and hope in the boy's pair of big, wide opened eyes.

He turned his look on top of them. The clouds were bluish white in color, an amazing combination of purity. Suddenly, it turned dark.

All the children playing in the garden shouted with fears as they suddenly felt themselves lost in the dark.

"Father!"

Then one by one they could witness the appearance of a brilliant light twinkling on top of their heads. There were many! Uncountable!

All the children were amazed, entertained and started to jump with joy dancing, hooking their arms and singing gladly.

"Our Father is great! None is ever greater than Him! The Only One! The Only God! Alleluia!  Alleluia!

The boy himself, the happiest of them all, shouted much louder.

"And He loves me!"

The Father's eyes were filled with tears of joy brought by the amazement he felt. The boy knelt before Him as his knees fell to the ground on its own.

"Those are the stars in the universe, my son, created for all of you."

As those words were said, all the children knelt themselves before the Father, thanking Him.

Then a little girl took a stand.

"But Father, we cannot see each other well. May I ask for a bigger star?"

The Father laughed and as he did, a group of stars joined themselves together and formed into a big round circle before the eyes of everyone.

The little girl's eyes went rounder and wider till the eyeball covers the view of the whole big star.

The whole garden was lit up against the dark surroundings.

The Father turned to the boy and asked him to give the big star a name.

"How will you call it my son?

The boy looked at him and smiled. Something new was created in his mind. He went to approach the girl and put his arm on her shoulder.

"Sister, that's a Moon!"

The girl looked at him with a happy, contented response.

"A Moon!"

All the other children shouted the word as they embraced each other happily.

"Thank you, Father!"

The little girl said, and she blew kisses to the happy Father on top of the balcony.

Once again, the Father's heart was full of joy.

"My children are my most loving creations."

All the children found something new in their lives at the garden. They started to adopt new activities under the stars and the moon.

The Father sat himself back to his chair. He let the children play. He watched them all the time.

Whatever he had been seeing, no one but Him knew them. No one else.

The writer stopped for a while, studying the face of the Father. The Father's face was not very clear to his eyes. But he could see the lips when it turned into a smile. Other than that, nothing he could see.

Then a loud voice called again. Someone familiar. The boy.

"Yes, my son."

At his call, the Father jumped from the chair. 

A call from His children excite and made his heart leap.

 "I am not satisfied anymore just looking at the star from here."

The Father's face became unreadable.

"What is it that you are asking?"

The boy's eyes went wide with excitement-

"I want to reach it, Father! I want to go there and explore!"

The Father did not say anything.

The writer tried to look at Him from a different angle, but could not get a hint of what He felt. His face was so deep to decipher.

Since the Father was not saying anything, all the other children's attention was fully captivated by the boy.

They all left what they were doing and went around the boy looking at the Father.

One looked at the boy and confronted him.

"What else are you asking for? He has given us everything that we need."

Another boy added.

"Yes, that is true!"

The boy who asked the Father got uncomfortable and about to retaliate, but the other boy continued.

"I have asked him how to construct something from my wooden toys and he showed me how to build houses, furniture, bridges and even towers!"

The little girl came forward too.

"That is true. I have asked the Father how to make myself beautiful. I have learned to make beautiful your houses, surroundings, even myself pretty and interesting before your eyes.

With my little dolls, I have practiced everything. With my kitchen toys, I have cooked for you. With my plastic bowls, I have planted and replanted the plants and flowers around us in this garden. 

You see, the Father has given us the talents to be useful to one another."

One more child stepped forward too.

"Yes! the Father even has sent us His only Son to guide our ways. Many of us were being misled by the Darkness. We have a Light, yet many refuses, even to look at His Son.!"

The boy who asked the Father for something more got full and burst out loud.

"Enough!"

All were stoned still. All eyes big and mouth opened in big surprise. They shut up.

"I believe in the Father. He is Good. He is Kind. He has Power. Whatever I ask Him, He will give. And, I want to show that kind of Faith."

The boy looked back to the Father. His eyes begging Him. Without more words, he knelt before Him.

This time the writer could see the Father's face. His eyelids were half closed. Expression, though, could not be read. 

"What is it that you are asking?"

The boy responded.

"Give me the talent. Show me how. Teach me. I want to show everyone how much more there is in you."

"Why?"

The Father was not moved with the boy's reason.

"Because I love  you."

At the speak of the word, the Father's eyelids went up. After a while, He spoke again.

"Well then, my son. Just ask and it shall be given. Seek and you shall find. Knock and the door will be opened. Whatever you will ask me, I will give.

Just remember this: I love you so much. Repent. My arms will be there waiting to forgive you."

There was a stand still. The boy and the other children were quiet for a long while. 

The boy was the first to recover and jumped up so joyfully.

"Yes, Father! I promise. I will never forget you!"

The Father's eyelids fell down again.

The writer' s eyes were fixed on the Father's face. He felt the sadness of His heart.  

The boy started to look around him. Everyone went back to what they were doing before. So he went everywhere, in every corner, without  nothing in mind what he was looking for.  He knew he just needed to find something.

He went back to his original toys of two triangles formed into one. One finger pointed to one then another.

He thought to himself as he realized more and more about what he could do with what he got.

"I would need more to produce something new and more."

A child who was playing with a metal plane after getting bored with his wooden ones had asked the Father if there's a better material to construct planes, since his wooden toys got rotten everytime he threw it into the air and it fell into the lagoon.

When he went to play other games with other children, and left his metal plane under a tree, the boy holding his set of triangle toys went into the woods near the lagoon. He sat himself under a tree.

He found the metal plane. He picked it up. Studied it and looked at the stars. Closing his eyes and creating a vision, his mind reached to create something more. He opened his eyes. They were like the moon!

He jumped to his feet, full of excitement and merrily went dancing around the lagoon. Within the water, the moon's reflection was shining bright and loud.

"Thank you Father! Thank you! Thank you!"

Then the story went on and all the children knew what happened next till everything ended and what all have done to the Father's generosity and love for them all. 

The writer murmured to himself.

"Until all is done according to the Scriptures." 

A loud explosion woke up the writer. He went to look at the window.

"Must it be the end of it all or the beginning of something new?"

He went back to his bed to pick up his shirt. He saw the pen. 

"Only the Father knows."

Those were the words he picked up from seeing his pen.

Then he put on his shirt and went out to find out what's going on. The following words kept coming back to his mind.

"Just remember this:

I love you so much. Repent. My arms will be there waiting to forgive you." 

 

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(c) bbayonito20/bethbciar

@bbayonito20(Tap to Author's Profile)