The Visit

Freedom in unexpected places

Introduction:

Hey everyone I am trying out something new and I hope you’ll join me for it. I’ve long loved the idea of telling deep truths through narrative but I’ve never done it, at least not publicly. I think just because I always felt like I needed to get an entire story done before it was worth anything. Sadly, that’s not the season I’m in right now and I’m not sure that way of thinking is healthy.

Anyways, I do however, often find myself writing little “scenes” that creatively express truths which have impacted me in some way. Presently, I am trying my hand at presenting bite size stories packed with meaning and nutrients. I’m a novice at writing fiction but I enjoy it deeply and would like to make a run at it by continually trying to develop my skills as I continue to engage in the practice. With that, I invite you to comment down below your thoughts and ways I could sharpen my writing. Your feedback in invaluable to me as I develop.

For future reference, you’ll be able to find any future scenes I publish via the “Scenes” tab on the Whole Soul Substack page here.

With that, I hope you enjoy!

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Setting:

Mel is visiting his younger brother Odell in prison. Odell is serving time for domestic violence and assault on an officer. Mel has recently been released from a lengthy hospital stay. He is wheelchair bound after being paralyzed from the waist down due to a drive-by shooting. Since Mel’s hospitalization, Odell has been finding himself in a downward spiral of trouble. This scene picks up mid-way through the brothers’ first conversation since Odell’s arrest and Mel’s return home.

Scene:

Odell beat his fist on the table and said through gnashed teeth, “Aren’t you angry with what they did to you? What they did to Mitch?”

Mel stared deeply into Odell’s eyes and, in a gentle tone, replied, “When I was laid up in that bed, you know what hit me?” He asked with a crack in his voice.

“I realized how often I’ve let fear ruin memories; moments that could have been beautiful. They’re gone, Odell. I’ve let fear steal love. I’ve let it steal life itself; life I’m never getting back!”

“What are you talking about?!” retorted Odell.

“It may shock you, Odell, but for nearly forty-three years I’ve been in prison too.” Pointing to his mind first and then to his heart, Mel said, “In here and in here.”

“It rarely feels like fear in the moment,” Mel continued, “but as surely as the sun sets, the thing buried underneath that relentless force of stress that rises in the pit of your stomach and grips every organ inside of you is fear. And just beneath the anger that always follows close behind is a fear of something, or in my case, many things.”

Silence lingered. Odell was taken aback. Mel had always been a man of vengeance, and not only that, but Mel had always had a pestering fear of a premature death. Odell, struggling to process, began to search for words when Mel spared him the effort,

“That same fear landed you here, Odell,” Mel said. Odell’s mouth jolted open as if to protest but Mel continued before Odell could interject, “and it will keep you here and eventually bury you in here if you let it.”

By this point Odell was conflicted within himself. The kind that wraps you in a fierce weighted blanket of paralysis. His emotions screamed one thing, but his thoughts, the few he could process, knew Mel was right.

As Odell settled, looked down and to the left, and let out a deep sigh, Mel finally answered his question, “So no, I’m not upset with the man who shot me… Because the man who nearly took my life, though he doesn’t know it, actually gave me a new one.”