Orderly Chaos

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s poking its heads through the clouds at the horizon, right on schedule.</p><p id="f6ce">I ran upstairs, took a quick shower and grabbed my things. I stopped for a second as I walked out of my room and gazed at my pillow. The words “Hope Never Dies” seemed to shine at me. I thought about my mom pushing me on a swing on my 6th birthday. That was the day she surprised me with the pillow that she sewed herself. Her smile, her laugh, her hugs (the best hugs in the universe). A tear began to form in my right eye, and then in the left. I miss her so much.</p><p id="6fc7">My alarm for 7am started blaring. “Whoaaaaa livin on a prayer!” Bon Jovi played loudly. I snapped back to reality and shut it off. I ran downstairs, outside and to my car.</p><p id="dd49">I wanted to stop somewhere for chocolate chip waffles (my comfort food), but decided against it. There was no time for anything else, I needed to go see the boss.</p><p id="4fe4">— — — — — <i>This story came to me one day while I took a nap. The dream barely made sense to me while it was happening, but everything I saw and felt is described above. I began writing it out in 2020, on Facebook, as status updates. Then I realized that I should probably do the story some justice and put it out there

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for whoever might possibly see it to see, and not confine it to my Facebook friends list. It’s a series, and I can vividly imagine the characters and the setting in my head. I’ve decided to start publishing the parts of the story I have so far on here. I don’t know if anyone will read it, but at least I can say I put it out there. Hope never dies.</i></p><p id="b734">Here is <a href="https://flowmar.medium.com/orderly-chaos-a799a2050894">Chapter 11</a>.</p><p id="73cd"><i>©2021, Omar Imam. All rights reserved.</i></p><div id="929d" class="link-block"> <a href="https://readmedium.com/medium-writers-be-open-challenges-you-to-create-be-open-more-about-me-3a39e7aadc6c"> <div> <div> <h2>Medium Writers! Be Open Challenges you to create Be Open (More About Me)!</h2> <div><h3>Readers love you as you are! Submitting your writer’s bio and pinned it is highly recommended.</h3></div> <div><p>medium.com</p></div> </div> <div> <div style="background-image: url(https://miro.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:320/1*-g0I5o0ZUCF2dnH2v8HC0Q.png)"></div> </div> </div> </a> </div></article></body>

Chapter 12 — We’ve Already Established That Hope Never Dies

Image by Author — “Past, Present, Future as One”

Hope

6:30am

I woke up lying on the floor of my kitchen. with a butcher knife in the back of my neck. I’ve died many times but this has to be in the top ten of the most uncomfortable. I reached up and pulled it out. “What the hell? Why would someone…?” then, it dawned on me. They must be trying to get rid of me. Somehow, they recognized what I am and they’re trying to kill me. Well, too bad you can’t kill an immortal being unless they want to die.

I don’t feel pain like a normal person, but I do feel pressure, and let me tell you… “whoever they got to try to assassinate me did a damn good job of killing me. Well, you know what I mean”. The knife was jammed into me like “The Sword in the Stone”. Who ever it was must have some serious anger issues. As my wounds self-healed, I looked over at the clock. 6:32am to be exact. Glancing out the window, the sun was poking its heads through the clouds at the horizon, right on schedule.

I ran upstairs, took a quick shower and grabbed my things. I stopped for a second as I walked out of my room and gazed at my pillow. The words “Hope Never Dies” seemed to shine at me. I thought about my mom pushing me on a swing on my 6th birthday. That was the day she surprised me with the pillow that she sewed herself. Her smile, her laugh, her hugs (the best hugs in the universe). A tear began to form in my right eye, and then in the left. I miss her so much.

My alarm for 7am started blaring. “Whoaaaaa livin on a prayer!” Bon Jovi played loudly. I snapped back to reality and shut it off. I ran downstairs, outside and to my car.

I wanted to stop somewhere for chocolate chip waffles (my comfort food), but decided against it. There was no time for anything else, I needed to go see the boss.

— — — — — This story came to me one day while I took a nap. The dream barely made sense to me while it was happening, but everything I saw and felt is described above. I began writing it out in 2020, on Facebook, as status updates. Then I realized that I should probably do the story some justice and put it out there for whoever might possibly see it to see, and not confine it to my Facebook friends list. It’s a series, and I can vividly imagine the characters and the setting in my head. I’ve decided to start publishing the parts of the story I have so far on here. I don’t know if anyone will read it, but at least I can say I put it out there. Hope never dies.