Memoirs of Salvation

Sean Shahkarami
12th grade


Memoirs of Salvation


Prologue

         She wore her beauty generously, and it easily consumed the hearts and desires of every man who was ever fortunate enough to be graced by her presence. Although she always held my interests; she only existed as another insignificant soul that fills in the empty space of this world. Until finally I realized the darkness of my own being, and began a journey to unwind the corruption of my spirit did I witness the Light. Then by the  fortunate exposure to the wrath of the wicked twist in Mother Nature our paths crossed; by either simple coincidence, predetermined fate, or Divine intervention. Our lives to become intertwined- connected together like great vines that sprawl and tangle themselves about a grand oak.
         
Chapter 1
Scott

         The night bled into dawn, and I awoke with a sense of melancholy that seemed to cloud my emotions with a heavy haze. I climbed out of my retreat, and went through my morning routine. I believe that I am more depressed in the mornings because it is then that I realize just how monotonous, repetitive, and dull my life really is. After I shower I gaze at the face that looks back at me from my mirror, and although I do not consider myself to be vain, I do nonetheless dwell upon the imperfections of my physical reflection. Often I am complemented for my handsomeness, but when I stare at my face I am only reminded of all the blemishes, birthmarks, invisible moles, and microscopic wrinkles that plague me, and every other human. Furthermore, if it was true that I am appealing then she would not cast me away as she does. Then as if on cue after examining my face my eyes peer down at the thin layer of fat that covers the area where once strong, and toned abdominal muscles had protruded. It never fails, every morning I make myself sick over my appearance- making promises to do something about it- promises that only end up broken and forgotten by midday.
         However in my black on black Armani suit I feel confident. The self-consciousness that comes with my nakedness is forever wiped from the deep realms of my mind. With this being said I believe now more than ever in my sinfulness. For it takes a two thousand dollar suit, a forty-thousand dollar Rolex, six hundred dollar shoes, neatly manicured nails, a perfectly shaven face, and an Aston Martin for me to feel- to feel-well happy. I seem to rationalize with my materialism. I tell myself I worked damn hard for everything I own. I am a self made man, I deserve this life of luxury. I am not lying to myself; not entirely that is. I did and still do work hard. However what is strenuous work?  To me it used to mean staying up all night writing essays; now it means directing and managing the five thousand employees of my company. It is a demanding job, but then again didn’t the slaves of our distant fathers work ten times harder than me? And for what the privilege to live one more day, so that they can wake up at the crack of dawn the very next morning to start all over? Moreover is it not true that the elementary school teachers in the countless ghetto neighborhoods whom each year empty their own pocketbooks on crayons and other school supplies for disrespectful children work just as hard-if not harder than me. Is it a lie that the thousands of immigrants who come to this country searching for the dream that I live are stuck laboring for months in an orchard picking fruits that taste oh so sweet on my ungrateful tongue for a mere fraction of my salary? I struggle with these questions often, and I am always wondering is this life just luck of the draw? Is my life blessed- blessed by a God who for some reason or no reason at all favors me over his other creations? Or am I cursed- cursed to live this life of fortune until I die, and then when I die get to experience the doom of others who came before me for eternity? That would be a fitting punishment, but at the same time a very cruel trick. These thoughts consume me until finally I make it to my parking space. At my office I am able to relinquish my feelings angst and anxiety and succumb to the pressures of my job.

Chapter 2
Scott

         My office building is located in the downtown district of the city. It is thirty-eight stories high, and stands as the pinnacle of my father’s dreams and my own achievements. The outside walls, staircase, and foundation are made of marble that gleam like a jewel under the rays of the sun. Each and everyday before entering I pause at the front entrance. In a routine state of trance I soak in the beauty, the glory, the importance of my life that is symbolized by this structure.
         Immediately after I walk inside I catch a quick glimpse of her. She has thick dark brown hair, and gorgeous almond toned skin that looks as if it has been lightly brushed with a soft golden hue. Her eyes are a cool hazel that shine innocence, and deep analysis at any given moment. Her shape is mesmerizing, and her walk is so rhythmic and symmetrical that it puts me a state close to hypnosis. Although she has worked here for the better part of two years, I have never met her personally. Not that I have not tried. Each attempt, however, I make at gaining some knowledge from her I fail. Intuition  tells me that she avoids my company. Many times I have approached the place where she was only to find that she had mysteriously vanished. For a time I almost believed that she was a ghost or an apparition from my imagination until once a rather vulgar employee made a crude comment describing her chest. Needless to say he is no longer on my payroll. Yet still she is only an indescribable mystery to me- a mystery I push to the back of my heart, and do my best to ignore. Until today. I muster up enough strength to drag myself toward her. I make that I do not take my eyes off her; that way she cannot vanish from my sight. Slowly, deliberately I make eye contact with her, and with a friendly smile I hold out my hand to greet her. She looked at me coolly, and made no attempt to shake my outstretched limb. Feeling slightly stupid I brought my arm back to my side. In the most polite tone I could orchestrate words began to flow from the tip of my tongue.
         “Hello there, my name is Scott James..-”
Before I could even finish my introduction she anxiously- almost sarcastically interjected.
         “Yes, I know exactly who you are Mr. James, you are my boss. Now with that being said then you must understand, more than anyone else, that your employees here are very busy; that being me included, so if you don’t mind I really need to get back to work. However it was a pleasure to meet you, Sir.”
         “Call me James, please,-but oh well of course..you need..to work..of course.” I babbled hesitantly.
“The pleasure was all mine Ms.?” I was at least determined to find out her name.
         “Ms. Sydney Claire.” She answered sharply, her tone cut me wide open. Feeling exposed, weak, broken, and naked I gave her one last smile, and hastily trailed away to my private elevator. At least I thought I now know her name, but all that did was increase my affinity for her.
Chapter 3
Scott

         My office is a spacious room on the top floor. It has a spectacular view of the city, and the crystalline blue river that runs through it. You can even see the peaks of distant mountains and the rolling green hills that faintly brush up against the sky. Its breathtaking, and thats an understatement. The room itself is furnished extravagantly with multiple leather sofas and recliners. It has a forty-eight inch flat-screen television with a surround sound stereo system. In the left hand corner there is a refrigerator stocked with beer, water, Gatorade, chilled liquors, and various foods. It was all constructed from the vision of a top interior designer, and the style itself is called post-modern- I guess that means that it is an office designed for the near future? The walls are decorated with famous pieces of artwork. My favorite being and elegantly painted night sky by Monet. The most important piece to the room, however, is my desk. Its made of heavy mahogany wood. It is one of the most gorgeous pieces of wooden furniture I have ever encountered. My desk houses my computer, and the rest of my other supplies. It is here  at my desk that I feel most comfortable. In fact sitting behind it I feel- I am invulnerable. Here I have power. My decisions effect the lives of thousands of people. It is here where I think most clearly and intelligently. It is here that I work, that I feel at home the most, and at rare times it is at my desk that in a graceful moment of enlightenment I find peace. That type of moment comes once in a blue moon, and has only happened three times in the past. Since the previous occurrences I find myself in an endless cycle of my soul stirring for its next reawakening.
         I sit down fully knowing that the chances of finding peace today were against all odds. She had completely desecrated me. Her swift, sharp glare, it had seen through me-I was sure of it. Her gaze had given me a peculiar feeling that she was able to see my heart, read my mind, and grapple inside my soul. Feeling depressed and insignificant I set my head down on the cool, smooth, soothing wood and drifted away.

Chapter 4
Sydney
         I saw him standing outside, he was pausing momentarily at the marble steps. Slowly he looked the entire structure up and down. I could tell that he was deep in thought. Probably thinking about how important, how powerful; how wealthy he is. I’ve noticed that he goes through this routine of staring at the office every morning before he comes in “to work”. He is the most disgustingly vain and materialistic man I have ever had the misfortune of being acquainted with. However I cannot lie to myself nor to my emotions. Against my own will I am very interested in him despite his materialism and vanity. He is successful, strong, brilliant, and more. He is all of the things that I have ever dreamt of in a man, but I refuse to let him in my life, for I refuse to love someone who so easily partakes in the sins I despise. Moreover I have already made that mistake once, and have vowed never to repeat it. What makes the situation even more complicated is that I know he is attracted to me. Often I see him casually glancing in my direction, and sometimes he will walk toward me with what I know are hidden intentions. When this happens I usually sneak off to hide myself and my feelings from him.
         Finally after he has finished examining the office he walks through the front glass doors. I pretend not to notice him, but immediately I can feel his stare upon me. Instinctively I know he is coming to try to make conversation with me. At first I begin to stealthily trail off, but an eerie force kept me frozen where I was-entrapped in quicksand-I stood there waiting for him to come.
         He offered his hand with a warm smile. A battle of reason against emotion exploded in my heart, and as much as I wanted to take his hand I knew I must be true to my logic and reject it. He attempted to introduce himself, but fighting the will of my heart I cut him off; refusing to hear what he had to say. With a soft, sad smile that resembled that of a broken man he walked away. However what he did not know was that he had walked away with a small piece of my heart.

         Chapter 5
Scott

         The weeks rotted away. Time passed in a slow, heavy haze. I was not heartbroken, but my confidence had been shattered like an expensive piece of fine china being thrown against a wall in a fit of furious rage. I began to suffer from insomnia. No matter how hard I tried sleep evaded me. At first I believed I was suffering from depression for the first time in my life. However depression was not the correct prognosis. In fact there is no single word, at least that I have the knowledge of that would have accurately described my emotional state.
         Things that were once beautiful, became ugly and distasteful. I was unable to find the pride that used to engulf my entire being at the sight of my office. I could hardly even bare to make a hasty glance at it. As more and more days went by I found myself almost running through the glass double doors with my head bent down; my best attempt not to even notice the glistening marble. I found myself inept to enjoy the once grand view from my office window. It seemed that the rolling hills were not as green as they once were, the trees not as mighty and tall, the gorgeous snaking, magnificent blue river turned a murkier brown. The bright, pure white clouds became an awful smog. My desk was no longer my haven; behind it I felt small and insignificant. It felt as if a vacuum had come into my life and managed to suck all the pleasure from my perception. Then I began to let myself unravel. A five o’ clock shadow became a full, rugged beard. The loss of sleep caused big black rings around my eyes. I lost my appetite and rapidly I began to lose weight at a very unhealthy rate.  My skin lost its vibrant tan, and turned a milky pale tint. I became paranoid of what my employees would think at the sight of me, so I stopped going in, and worked from my home.
         Something inside me had changed. My light had burned out; my heart ached. Something was missing I knew not what it was. She had stolen it, and with every fiber of my will I became determined to get it back. I could not live much longer like this.


Chapter 6
Sydney

         “I love you” he whispered softly into my ear. His strong hands began to smoothly caress my bare back. Lower they went and he began massaging the back of my thighs. My body began to tingle; his touch began to put me in ecstasy. Slowly; passionately he began to make love to me. I knew it was wrong, I knew I shouldn’t. I did not have the will to refuse. Temptation got the better of me.
         Instantly I awoke from the nightmare of my past. A cold sweat gripped me. My mouth was parched, and my head throbbed.
         I had loved too young. At seventeen I thought I was independent, mature, and strong enough to have an intimate relationship. I was naive, and betrayed my morals; my own self. I had been deceived by lust, and the hunger for true love. Those three words were poison. His lie was the sword that demolished my shield. He robbed me of my purity and innocence like a thief in the night.
         The memories were too painful, too atrocious for me to handle. A quiet whimper turned into an uncontrollable sob.
“Oh Lord, How foolish I was! Forgive me...” I cried out into the solemn darkness.
         
         
         Chapter 7
Scott
         
         Friends, coworkers, everyone began to notice the slump I was in. Everywhere I went I heard whispers behind my back; speculating the reasons for my deprived body and the patches of gray that speckled my hair. Rumors swirled about my life. Some claimed I had been diagnosed with cancer; others swore that my parents had been brutally murdered. Some even asserted that I facing legal woes, and that in a few short months I would be imprisoned for tax evasion. At that point I realized something had to be done, or I would have paranoid investors selling all their stocks out of fear that the company was going to the shitter.
         I called a board meeting to put any insecurities to rest. I hated these meetings. They take hours, and no one ever leaves happy or satisfied. The conferences are like a gigantic battle of tug of war, but the rope is money and each man’s strength is bore from their greed.
         “All right gentlemen let’s get this show on the road. I called you all here today to discuss my personal issues and to assert that in no way will they interfere in the prosperity of our business.” Suddenly I was cut off by Mr. Bartleby. He was a rather obese man who had a very condescending personality. He was by far my least favorite investor. I always did my best to avoid him.
         “Mr. James!” Have you looked in the mirror the past few weeks? You look like a failing old man; now how can we believe that someone as weak looking as an elderly grandfather be fit to run our company?”
         “I can assure you I am not a failing old geezer, and that my personal endeavors are not complicating nor hindering the management of the firm, but thank you for your most sincere sympathy, Mr. Bartleby.” I responded with sneering sarcasm. It was the only type of communication he was able to comprehend.
         “Mr. James, with all due respect Sir, you must understand that all of us depend not just on the survival, but on the success of your operations. Now, because our personal security relies on your leadership I believe we are entitled to know just what has come over you?”
         Mr. Blaine's remark was met with many nods and gestures of agreement. Deep down I knew the question was going to come up, but I still did not know how to adequately answer it without looking like a fool. I felt like an innocent man being sentenced to life. I was being judged by these men who knew nothing of love for another being, but only fed off the obsession of money, wealth, and power. My mind fired quickly, but shot out only useless blanks. I was unable to summon anything but the truth.
         “It’s a woman whose been giving me trouble, that’s all...” The eleven other men began chuckling. In their eyes I was weak.
         “A woman?! HA! Mr. James take my advice! There are plenty of women at the clubs. I know, I was just at one for lunch. There are many beautiful girls there who love to show men like us a good time!” Mr. Riverstein, who is a particularly obese middle-aged man, blurted.
         I was disgusted at the filth polluting my air. It felt as if the heater had been turned to full power. A sweltering heat caused perspiration to pop from my pores. I felt my face turn red with intense anger; with every bit of self-control I possessed I caged the beast of rage that was on the verge of pouncing-tearing...killing.
         “Alright! I believe that is all for today, Gentlemen. Meeting adjourned!” I spat.
Continuing to find humor the situation they filed out of the conference room laughing. For the first time they left a meeting smiling with joy, each of them filled with some sort of greedy glee.
         I loathed those stupid assholes.

Chapter 8
Scott

         Bright golden rays of sunlight transpired through the cracks of my blinds. They intruded upon my dreams, and brought me out of sleep. I laid there alone under the cool, white sheets for a few moments trying to slip away from the grasp of a conscious reality back into a peaceful slumber. Despite my internal will my physical body refused to find tranquility.
         I took in a long, deep breath, fought back welling tear drops, and rose from my bed. I took a cold shower to shock myself back to life. Something had to give or I was going to shatter and fry like an egg thrown against hot concrete. To be forgotten and left to blacken and char.
         ...I sat alone at the window gazing outside-it was time for a change.

                             



Chapter 9
Sydney

         Something was different. Something was new inside of him. Recently he had been coming to work in a white cotton shirt and faded jeans. No longer did was he wearing custom made suits that cost a fortune. The suits which only managed to give him the appearance of a man who cared more for money than himself.
         His gait was more comfortable. His face wasn’t speckled with stress lines, and he had banished his arrogant smirk. From my judgement he was a new man, and he had never been so appealing.
         However he was not the only person who had changed. As more time elapsed I began to notice I, too, had undergone a type of metamorphosis. For the first time since I had lost my innocence I felt redeemed. An encompassing feeling of forgiveness had swept over my heart. I felt open to the world, and all its ideas, and all the beauty it had to offer. My spirit had finally been freed. I could live easy with few worries, and I had discovered the liberty to love once again.

         Chapter 10
Scott

         I will admit for the first few days I felt incomplete without my designer suits and gold watch. However, after that I grew accustomed to my new attire that mainly consisted of cotton shirts and blue jeans. I felt the most at ease at the workplace in simple outfits.
         My wardrobe was not the only thing I changed at the office either. I let go of a few investors who cared more for material wealth than living life itself - Mr. Bartleby is not at all surprisingly the first I got rid of. I personally made sure that each employee enjoyed a generous pay raise. I began to give back by donating excess funds to soup kitchens and local schools. I did so anonymously, however, for publicity and fame was no desire of mine.
         The complete atmosphere of my worldly existence relaxed. Never did I feel claustrophobic behind invisible walls that slowly, methodically creeped in as I had felt a lot in the past. The chains that had shackled my wings had been cut down. With a liberating sense of rebirth on my side I found the power to soar above the petty sins that plague man. My eyes had been opened to see the Truth. I would never be bounded by greed, vanity, or lust ever again. Those monsters no longer held any value to me. They had once fooled me, but now the truth was mine. The truth - that those “pleasures” were not pleasures at all, but atrocities that only serve to deceive smart men. They are but sweet poison that causes us to lose our sight and follow pathways through the unmerciful darkness.
         
         ...I owed it to her-she was my messenger of Truth. My guiding Light.






Chapter 11
Scott

         It happened rather quickly...The sky had been threatening all afternoon, and at first I shrugged the sound off a harmless thunder in the distance. Then the earth roared. With all of its powerful might the ground shook insanely. Panic and chaos ensued. Fear shot down my spine, and an icy paralysis glued me down. I had no physical control of my body. Mentally and spiritually I began preparing for an inevitable death. Surely, I would be crushed...
         By fate she had been near. She flung open my office door and ran to my side. She clutched my hand, and the from the passion of her touch I regained control of myself. Together we ran down the stairwell to the maintenance hallway which was fortified with concrete to wait out the last few minutes of the earthquake.
         ...She had saved my life in so many ways...

         Instinctively, I wrapped my arms around her. We fit together perfectly, and when she laid the weight of her head on my chest something mystical happened. My heart fluttered, and our souls fused into one.
         She looked up and gazed straight into my eyes. She looked inside of me. She smiled softly, whispered so quietly it almost wasn’t audible.
         “I Love You.”

Chapter 12
Sydney

         Once the building began to rumble something deep inside of me knew he was in trouble. My feeling proved correct because when I threw open the door to his office he was stricken and immobile. By that time the ferocity of the quake was only becoming worse. I grabbed him. With all my strength I began to drag him out of the room and down the stairs. My ears were ringing- it was all so loud. It felt as if the world was suffering the wrath of an evil monster.
         Together we finally found safety in the structurally reinforced maintenance hallway. His eyes sparkled with fresh tear drops, and the entire length of his body was covered in a cold sweat.
         He held me close with my head to his chest. I felt an intense rush of emotion; an infallible connection to him. It was then that I was sure we were to be together forever.

Chapter 13
Scott

         Two weeks of countless hours hard work later it was impossible for anyone to notice any destruction from the earthquake. Everything in the office building was tidy and spotless again. Everything except the glistening marble staircase.
         An enormous crack zigzagged its way up the entire length of the marble from the bottom step to the front glass doors. When I announced that I was not going to restore the marble foundation everyone except for her questioned my reasoning. Some even flat out protested my position. One good man even asked me in private if my decision was based on a lack of funds to repair the crack, and offered to donate the money as a gift to fix it. I politely declined- my decision had nothing to do with money or anything else that was of material value.
         Maybe no one else could understand, but she and I could see. The crack that defaced the beauty of the marble represented something bigger. Bigger than any individual existence. The crack stood as a symbol of the fault of man. It was a perfect imperfection.

Epilogue

         We lived happily for many, many years well into our old age. I squeezed her hand tight as she drew her last breath just weeks after our fifty-second anniversary. In tranquil silence she passed on out of this world into the next.
         As I went through her things I stumbled upon her diary. I pieced our story together in hopes that it may live on for eternity; to serve as a guide for anyone who can find the lesson in it. It is all dedicated to her.
         I was but a desperate, stranded ship lost at an open Sea, and she was my Lighthouse on a distant shore; a beacon of hope, of beauty,...and of new Life. She was my Guardian Angel; upon her wings I was able to soar into the Light.
         Together we found vindication-Redemption. Together we were saved by the Grace of a loving Creator. This is our story. These are our Memoirs of Salvation.