Chapter One and Two of The Test

Posted on November 14, 2011

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My book The Test is done…Yay!  So I would like to share the first two chapters with you.  Suspense.  Diabetes.  Life.  Hope you like it.  And if you know any interested agents or publishers, let me know….

chapter 1

No!  Misha started sprinting.  No!  Panic.  Fear.  Death.  No!  Misha could barely breathe.  A tsunami was striking.  Misha had been out running on the beach.  Oh my God!     

Her heart was racing.  She couldn’t think.  She tried to run with all her might.  Why wouldn’t her legs move faster?

The pressure of the tsunami was upon her.  Waves of water engulfed Misha.  Suffocation began.  Oh my God!

Her kids.  What about her kids?  No…

Misha woke up.  She was paralyzed and confused.  Where was she?  What had happened?  Was she on the beach? 

Slowly, Misha was able to turn her head to the side.  Her alarm clock.  Her alarm clock and night table.  She reaced out for the clock.  Was she at home?  Oh my God.  

The clock read 2:03.  Whew!  Misha did not have the energy to move.  Was the tsunami a dream?  Misha touched the sheets and pillow just to make sure she was alive.  She was at home – in her bed, drenched in sweat and still trembling from fear. 

Misha took a deep breath.  She was alive.  She was safe.  But the nightmare had seemed so real. 

Misha’s blood sugar felt low.  Perhaps, the nightmare had triggered an insulin reaction.  That sometimes happened with diabetes.

Like clockwork, Misha leaned over the side of the bed, scooped up her purse, and located her blood testing machine.  She had tested during the night during several occasions and good literally do it in her sleep (almost).  Test, test, test. 

Misha’s blood sugar was normal.  The nightmare had taken a lot out of her.  There was no way she was going back to sleep.  Fear and adrenalin were still rushing through her veins. 

What did the tsumani nightmare mean?  Hmm…  What did it symbolize? 

Chapter 2

Beep…Beep…Beep…Such an obnoxious alarm clock, but it worked.  No sleeping through that loud and offensive noise.  Misha must have fallen back asleep.  The clock now read 6:00 a.m.  Time to get up and start the day (again). 

Misha slipped out of the bed and put on her fleece jacket.  She was always cold and kept a fleece handy. 

Her daughters were stirring in the room next door.  As Misha walked towards their room, she started thinking about the tsunami nightmare again.  Stop it.  She had to focus on the kids now.  No more tsunamis.  “Time to get up girls”, Misha said.  “Let’s go.”

Somewhat drained from the night before, Misha pretended to be energized and excited about the day ahead.  School was fun.  Breakfast is yummy.  Etc.  Etc. 

Misha got her daughters up and took their breakfast orders.  “Finish getting dressed while I make your breakfasts, ” ordered Misha.

Within an hour, the kids were dressed, fed, and off to school.  Misha time now.  Every single day, Misha went for a long run.  It was in her blood.  All part of her daily routine.  Running provided therapy and meditation for Misha.  And it helped keep her diabetes well controlled.  A win win situation. 

With running shoes laced up, Misha headed out the door.  She made sure she had her cell phone just in case of an emergency. 

As Misha approached the beach, she felt a bit of hesitation.  Could a tsumani ever occur in South Carolina?  Surely not.  But what if? 

It was a beautiful day on the beach.  The sun was warm as it reflected off the waves.  Gorgeous.  Yet, Misha was a bit nervous.  The beauty of the beach was unsettling today.  Misha kept running.  Focus.  Run.  Relax. 

The dream.  No, the nightmare was about control.  Or lack of control.  There is no control over a tsunami.  Maybe it symbolized how Misha felt about her life – out of control.  Trapped.  Suffocating.  Dying?  

Ohh.  That was too much to think about.  Misha admitted the last few weeks had been difficult.  They had relocated to Myrtle Beach for her husband’s job.  Misha hoped this move would be a new start.  A chance for her to embrace her creativity with the ocean as her source of inspiration.   Up until this moment, not much had happened.  Misha’s expectations were not being met.  

But the ocean, nature, and life had a lot in store for Misha.  If she only knew.

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