Martha’s Story – In Parts And Pieces

The two sisters continue to argue violently as they exit the store. Martha wants to buy a #50,000 necklace with hers and Tonia’s gift money from uncle Chad. Its their birthday. Martha is suggesting that upon its purchase they can take turns wearing it.
“No, i’ve got plans for my money Martha. You’re not going to sway me from my decision. I don’t want a necklace. I need a dress.’ Martha is relentless in trying to persuade Tonia to give in. Tonia will not be moved. They are oblivious to the passers by and the stares they give them as they go along. Its getting dark and the streets are getting more deserted by the second. Beside a dilapidated truck a short distance from them down the street, a child’s cries can be heard. The pain in his voice is heartrending. Tonia and Martha being the closest to the truck, halt their argument and run in that direction. Martha appears a bit uneasy as they circle the truck looking for the alarm source. “Tonia I don’t feel good about this. Lets get out of here. Something’s not right.” Tonia ignores her, as she searches the corners of the spooky street. Martha follows reluctantly
“we should leave now. The party. We’ve got a party to get to remember?” They reach a dark alleyway and see the little boy, bloodied and dirtied in a junk bin. Before either of them can reach the baby, huge hands fold over their faces and they instantly loose consciousness. Somewhere in what is left of Martha’s mind she laments “Oh my god help me. Help us. Save us!”

Its 3 years since the death of Tonia after they were brutally raped on that fateless evening. A year earlier Martha was confined to a bed. The doctors had diagnosed her with severe depression and ptsd. She now stands before an audience. The strength directed by her eyes into the audience is powerful. Her voice commands and keeps their attention locked in.
“You’re probably wondering how i transformed my once pathetic existence into what it is today. And in such a short time. I’ll tell you. One day, i received a letter. It was from a stranger. In the midst of my depression i couldn’t read, so i signaled to my caretaker to read it to me. Up until that time i had never given off any signs that i actually wanted to live. The delivery felt important so i listened as Agnes read softly. It was a very short read. One sentence and two questions. No name at the bottom.  It read:

“Our circumstances bend to the creations we allow into the space that really matters -The space of self. To learn a-living and thrive? Or let storms over which you may claim authority charge thee?”

I am in no way religious. Never have been and i don’t know if this letter changed me in that regard. Somewhere in the hell i was in, i was searching for closure. To understand why all those things happened to me. Why i had to be the example for many other girls. Why my sister had to die because of her compassion. Why i had to suffer for so long. But there was a greater hunger encased within these questions. A greater hunger to rise. To take the one shot at making her death mean something. At trying to balance out the wrong done to me. I went through stages to find my healing. First i had to accept the past and leave it where it belongs. This was the hardest part. Then i had to accept me with my brokenness and flaws. This was twice as hard. Against the doctors orders i left the hospital. I didn’t know how i would turn things around but I had to trust the one thing i disregarded before my twin sister and me where raped a few years back. As the days, weeks and months passed, something had taken root inside of me. Something that wanted me to quit. To quit being ill. To quit being miserable or sorry for myself. I got tired of being down on every level, so one day I called up an old friend who had me over for tea. I had nothing mind you. I had no degree. No job experience. No nothing. Just some family and my willingness to serve. To be useful. To make my life mean something. As it turned out, by reaching out to this friend, i had taken the only action i needed to take to make me better. Over this tea, he set up a meeting for me to meet his boss who was looking for a personal assistant. The rest they say is history. Since then everything has and i believe will continue to fall into place. I am still healing. I am still growing. I am still learning. But i choose to share this tale of mine so every person who reads these words will know that they’re not alone and more importantly, that they have the power to tell their brains exactly what to download from the world and manifest into it. The steps – Accept the past, leave it where it belongs but take all the lessons as they are the reason that past happened in the first place, resolve that you have the power to command any thing into life form by directing and managing your thoughts, and taking prompt action to help the universe or God if you prefer, help you and also honouring your reception of your desires by experiencing the gratitude you would feel upon receiving all that you have asked by continously saying “thank you” and meaning it. By doing this you’re acting from your desired consciousness on the power of faith. So, you want it? Go get it. Start getting it. And always find reasons to be thankful. I’m doing it and so can you.” This round off elicits a standing ovation from the audience. Camera Lights flash. The entire room is overtaken by thunderous applause. A little girl, about six years old sighs deeply. The gun positioned barely an inch to the back of her head moves a little closer. The safety clicks off…

    Fade Out

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