Invincible
Innocence.
I remember the first time I saw her. I knew nothing about her; not even her name. But she was a tall, thin, average-looking girl with small black eyes. I guess what pulled me to her was the fact that she laughed at almost everything I said, in a good way. Like, every joke that came out of my mouth, she'd be the first one to laugh.
And her smile. Her eyes would become even smaller and her eyes would just sparkle with real innocence. That was another thing that attracted me to her- she was so innocent. So kind. A real, down to earth, sweet kid.
We met because her mom Elizabeth had asked me if I could help her out with the puppet show they were doing. A puppet show for kids. I said, sure.
I made her laugh the whole night with my jokes. She'd pay real close attention when I'd randomly tell her my fun facts- I'd say, did you know that the most dangerous animal in the world is the common housefly (because of their habits of visiting animal waste, they transmit more diseases than any other animal)? She'd shake her head, her eyes would widen, and her mouth would form an O.
Still not knowing her name, that was the first and last time I ever saw her. Well, until six months later. Me and my family were in a church- I was the guitarist and my father was the singer. There weren't that many people... And because the church was just starting we were at the pastor's house.
I was tuning my guitar, when all of a sudden the door opens. Heads turn and I look up. A short beautiful woman walks in with a tall, thin plain girl. I pause, thinking, Haven't I seen her before?
The girl looks at me; our eyes meet. Her small eyes widen and her cheeks color. She looks down, biting her lip. I suddenly remember- this is the girl.
For the first thirty minutes, I close my eyes while I play my guitar. I try my best to focus on God alone, but she keeps creeping in my head. I finally give up and let her take over. I allow myself to think of her, and only her. For the rest of the hour in a half, I shift impatiently in my chair. The words of our preacher go in one ear and out the other.
Finally, when the service ends, I'm literally the first one to stand up. My parents glance at me, narrowing their eyes, and then look away. I sigh. Then I see her and I try to casually go where she is.
"Hi." I say.
She looks at me. "Um, hi."
"My name's Jeremiah Camp. What's yours?" My words came out in a rush.
She smiles shyly. "My names Mirka Oakley. But you can call me Mo."
And her smile. Her eyes would become even smaller and her eyes would just sparkle with real innocence. That was another thing that attracted me to her- she was so innocent. So kind. A real, down to earth, sweet kid.
We met because her mom Elizabeth had asked me if I could help her out with the puppet show they were doing. A puppet show for kids. I said, sure.
I made her laugh the whole night with my jokes. She'd pay real close attention when I'd randomly tell her my fun facts- I'd say, did you know that the most dangerous animal in the world is the common housefly (because of their habits of visiting animal waste, they transmit more diseases than any other animal)? She'd shake her head, her eyes would widen, and her mouth would form an O.
Still not knowing her name, that was the first and last time I ever saw her. Well, until six months later. Me and my family were in a church- I was the guitarist and my father was the singer. There weren't that many people... And because the church was just starting we were at the pastor's house.
I was tuning my guitar, when all of a sudden the door opens. Heads turn and I look up. A short beautiful woman walks in with a tall, thin plain girl. I pause, thinking, Haven't I seen her before?
The girl looks at me; our eyes meet. Her small eyes widen and her cheeks color. She looks down, biting her lip. I suddenly remember- this is the girl.
For the first thirty minutes, I close my eyes while I play my guitar. I try my best to focus on God alone, but she keeps creeping in my head. I finally give up and let her take over. I allow myself to think of her, and only her. For the rest of the hour in a half, I shift impatiently in my chair. The words of our preacher go in one ear and out the other.
Finally, when the service ends, I'm literally the first one to stand up. My parents glance at me, narrowing their eyes, and then look away. I sigh. Then I see her and I try to casually go where she is.
"Hi." I say.
She looks at me. "Um, hi."
"My name's Jeremiah Camp. What's yours?" My words came out in a rush.
She smiles shyly. "My names Mirka Oakley. But you can call me Mo."
♠ ♠ ♠
I guess this could be a true story. In fact, it partially is true. But I'm doing a little of changing here and there. What I really like about this- is this is (haha partially) my story. About him. So this is really cool, for me.