At the Coming of the Dawn

This book only has a chapter written in it so far.  It is a really sad book, and I hate writing sad books.  But alas, I can’t help myself.  I love to make my readers cry as they read!  I like it when the tears stream down the reader’s face, making agonizing sounds.  If you think I’m bad, you should see the stuff that my fellow writer, Mel N. Cholly, writes.  It is absolutely heartbreaking!  Heartbreaking, I tell you!

Believe me, this is going to be a really, really, really, really, really, really, sad book.  So read on, readers, read on...

Angelina Zoe

               It was the third of July, that dreadful day, when my life was turned upside down by a powerful rainstorm and a misery so great, and so painful.  The day that no one will ever forget.

               It started out as any other sweltering hot day in June on the island of St. Simons, Georgia.  My father worked in the lighthouse as the lighthouse keeper, and my younger sister and brother and I lived with him in the little house that was attached to the bottom.  Being the eldest, and the strongest, I helped my father in the daytime with the keeping and cleaning of the light.  During the afternoons, when the sun shone, our father would sleep and prepare for the upcoming night.  At night, father would stay up and tend to the light, and during the day it would be my responsibility to take care of my brother and clean out the glass and mirrors that reflected the huge light at dusk.

               It wasn’t a hard job, cleaning the lights, but it was tiresome.  In order to get the glass to shine like the sun, I had to lug two buckets full of soapy water up five, winding, steep, flights of stairs.  I’d never complain, though, because I know what father does every single night, and has done for the past fifty years. 

               It was the night before the third of July when my younger brother, Elroy, and I were sitting on the jetties right on the ocean.  It was almost dusk and a storm was brewing to the east.  The clouds above in the sky were an ominous black color, threatening to break open at any moment, and I could hear the distinct sound of thunder in the far away distance.  It was faint, but I could still hear it. 

               I should have known that trouble was brewing.  I should have known that something bad was going to happen.  I could just feel it in the air as it whipped at my face, stinging my watering eyes.  Elroy tried to persuade me to get inside the lighthouse before the storm started.  But what did I say?  I told him no.  No.  Why did I not listen to him?  Listen to my heart?