Friday, March 9, 2012

Egg-cerpt Exchange with Jana Chantel

Into My Mind
Everyone has a story to tell. In this case, Jana` tells her's through prose and essays written to reflect her pain, family tragedies, and the love and support she received from others.

At age one-year old, Jana` witnessed her mother being shot to death. At age nine, she experienced her father's death as a result of cancer. Everyone has tragedy in their lives, but how we deal with our circumstances determines our life paths. Triumph and perseverance, are reflected throughout these poignant, yet strong writings. Written from the deep place that only one who has suffered can find, these essays can lend voice to anyone who might not have the words to express their own feelings, but need to release. Go into your mind, through the essays of Jana` Chantel.

A selection of personal essays written to reflect perseverance and triumph.

When I was thirteen, my brother accidentally shot me.
“I was standing in the living room…,” I say to the police as I lay in my bed. With the help from my cousin Javon, I was able to get from the floor of the living room to my bed. A few minutes ago I was trying to go to sleep and wishing that it all was just a dream.
“Ma’am,” one of the officers says which I find kind of ironic since I’m thirteen. “What happened?”
“I was standing in the living room…,” I repeat, but again I stop right there. The lie my cousin Noland wanted me to tell the police couldn’t pass my lips, only the truthful part could come out.
“There are no bullet holes coming into the house indicating a drive by,” another officer says as he walks into my bedroom. A hole has just been punched into the lie that Noland wanted me to tell.
“Ma’am what happened?” the officer asks again.
“Please,” for the first time tears fall. “I just want to go to the hospital.” The bullet that ripped through my body several minutes ago is still a huge concern to me. “I’ll tell you everything after I go to the hospital.”
“No,” the officer says casually, as if my life wasn’t depending on it. “We need to know what happened first.”
I lay in my bed crying torn with a difficult decision: dying or giving up my brother.
“I was standing in the living room…”
Surprisingly enough, the officer just sighs and allows the paramedics to put me on the stretcher and wheel me out to the ambulance. I shut my eyes tightly, not wanting to see my gawking neighbors.

“I was in my house,” I hear a neighbor say. “When I heard just onegunshot.”
The paramedics load me in the back of the ambulance and I begin to think that everything is going to be ok, until I realize that we are not moving.
“Jana` sweetie,” I hear a female voice say, which is a little strange since I know that both of the paramedics are male. “I’m detective…” I kind of block out her name from there. “Sweetie we need to know what happened.”
“Please,” I cry again. “I just want to go to the hospital.”
“I know sweetie, but we can’t let you go until you tell us what happened.”
Time is of the essence and it is slowly slipping away from me as I continue to stay here.
I give in. “My brother was playing with a gun and it went off…he didn’t mean it.”
As the sirens begin to sound and the ambulance speeds off all I could think is, “James I hope you forgive me.”
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And her blog   Journey to My Dream
Thanks Jana, for stopping by

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