Sombody | Teen Ink

Sombody

October 13, 2010
By LiteraryGold BRONZE, Atlanta, Georgia
LiteraryGold BRONZE, Atlanta, Georgia
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

Hello I’m somebody, one or some person of no specific identity, I live at 1877 Somewhere Avenue in Some City. And boy do I have a story to tell you. Let me do my best to paint this peculiar story as accurately as I can for you. I find myself on a normal Tuesday evening watching none other show but “Wipeout” and as I was having a grand chuckle at the very obese accountant struggle through the wall of punching boxing gloves, fighting so hard for that cash prize. I am suddenly interrupted by the noise of a ringing doorbell. In great aggravation I paused the show just in time to see the obese mans extra body mass ripple, due to blow which he received with his stomach. I couldn’t help but again chuckle as I went to answer the door. Opening my massive oak doors, I set my eyes on a very strange fellow: Balding man, early 40’s, comb over with what hair he still has left, button up short sleeve shirt, with that all too elementary teacher tie of Peanut characters, along with that 2nd grade teacher smile, and to top it all off I was able to notice of that book he was holding. I could hardly make out the words “Holy Bible” on the cover. Fantastic! Just what I need a religious fanatic! As I turn my back to him I say, “I don’t want our religion”, as I shut the door behind me, the man stops the closing door with his foot and in reply says, “Sir I think you misunderstand why I’m here, I’m a salesman offering something completely new, something the likes of which the world has never see before.” With enthusiasm I came with my rebottle, “Well jokes on you because I have everything that I ever wanted, I have a beautiful wife, plenty of cash, and as for this religion and this “salvation”, the Father assures me that with my generous weekly offering and attendance to church will secure my residency in heaven. Now what do you have to offer me? “Sir”, he simply says, “do you have a mirror?” Confused, I watch him pull a mirror from his pocket, he hands it to me and I look into it. A repulsive figure stares back at me. Open wounds covers his face and it is as if he is crying with bloody crimson tears. In disgust I throw the mirror and exclaim, “What kind of mirror is that?” The man replies, “My mirror replaces your physical appearance with your truly spiritual one, you see, sir, you’re dying, those wounds that you see are more than you can bear and you try to cover them with bandages of wealth, sex, and other worldly pleasures. You see these bandages hold for a little while but they are bound to fall off. Now, sir, I am here to offer you help. I’m not a doctor; I’m not going to give you something that you can put on your wounds. No, rather I will introduce you into a relationship, that once you are in you don’t have to worry about those cuts and gashes being bandaged. For you will be made completely new.”(Pause) Made new, completely new, the likes of which the world has never seen before. Thinking of those words I break down wallowing in a puddle of my own tears. (Pause)Made new (pause). Hello, I’m somebody, one or some person of no specific identity, I live at 1877 Somewhere Avenue in Some City, and I am a new creation the old is gone and the new has come.


The author's comments:
This is a little piece i wrote for my school

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