Welcome To Westbrook (An Older Fiction Story I Wrote)

         In the night he was bumping into everything, lost in a dark void, feeling his way through. Resources were being used and consumed faster than anticipated. Faster and faster until the abundance suddenly dried up; even the light from a flashlight was no longer an option as darkness swallowed him up in it’s dark folds all around. He fumbled and felt his way in the pitch black as carefully as he could, desperation for clarity and direction spurred him on through the fear that sought to imprison him. He’d reach, take a step, then repeat making his way with trembling hands while praying for safety and some sort of light to the dark path he was now navigating. “I can’t turn back now.”, he thought to himself, giving the best attempt at motivation he could produce and coming up short at sufficient in each attempt; for fear travelled with him.

        One terrified step after another, over and over again until his footing met surprise: a large sign on the ground waiting to bring him down. Nearly landing facedown on the large sign he tripped on, he began to feel for the ground to push himself up....it was then that he saw it: Welcome To Westbrook. The hidden became seen in the night as a light shone down upon it just enough to give it a voice, to make it’s message clear to both see and read. For a moment in the darkness it spoke it’s direction and aid to him. For a moment the moonlight lit the once concealed and slowly the way appeared to him; only for a moment before disappearing. This was the game of hide-and-seek that began as the terrified traveler made his way through peril and the unknown with nothing but a goal and a destination in this night.

        In the fall he rose slowly to his feet. Cautiously he steadied himself as he was suddenly consumed by an eroded will. “Should I continue? Will it matter? Was this a mistake?”, questions and doubt plagued his already troubled mind. “I can’t turn back now.”, he reminded himself in the darkness all around, and he journeyed on. Pain was slowly forgotten as it was pushed to the back of his mind with each feeble forward motion made (limping slightly as he progressed onward). The pain from the fall was replaced by encouragement a little at a time with the goal and destination always at the front of his mind. He knew from some unexplainable understanding given in the moment his journey’s end was near; he was ready for it’s end and the new beginning to start. He longed to find the answers to the papers he carried, the questions raised within his family, the roots and legacy they left behind. He had searched for years and came up empty until recently. A fall and some darkness wouldn’t keep him from what he sought most: closure, to start again knowing who he truly was. "Welcome To Westbrook indeed.", he thought to himself as he continued on to the lost town founded long ago by his ancestors…..and to answers he couldn’t wait to finally achieve.

Sidenote: If any of the writing on this blog has made a good impact on your life in someway (EVEN if it was something you may have enjoyed reading for a particular reason), please feel free to share this blog with someone else who could be blessed also. Thank you for your support! 


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