Het wild imagination

Chapter 1 “Good evening Miss Anna Jenkins, this way please," one of the security personnel said to me. I gently came down from the car and smiled at him. “Thank you Sir”, I responded to him. I could feel the night's breeze blowing up my ego and success. What can a man do when you successfully get everything you have been praying for, maybe even more than you imagined? I guess it's at that moment you realize you were worth more than you told yourself. The woman I have become, now I carry the lesson and experience that once broke me, but now it's teaching me; the whole arena was set up for no one else but me. Am I surprised? Maybe yeah, oh, but I'm taking it all, the credit, the smiles, the praise, including the hate, although I'm going to trash that one. As soon as I began taking a step towards the door, I could feel my swollen legs, not out of pain but success. I felt like they were too big, way too big to carry me, and if I wasn't careful, I was going to fall off this huge mountain that had created itself because of my success. One thing about life is that you can choose for yourself what you want to be, but sometimes not what you have to do to get there. People always praise you, telling you how lucky you must be because of what you have achieved, but what can I say? I don't believe in luck at all. It has its people and lovers. Some of us who were never lovers of luck end up fighting to get our way all the time. It's as though it doesn't even know us by name, so it doesn't favor us. But I got to know that all hope is not because there's something way bigger, better, and more effective than luck and that's Grace. I believe in grace, not luck, because, unlike luck, grace does have its people and it's not a lover of anyone. Grace works in mysterious ways. Luck can come three times a day, but grace comes maybe six times in a lifetime, but each moment of grace sets you up for years, sometimes generations to come. Grace brought me this far, and she remembered me after years of neglecting me. "There she is. "You look amazing. "I'm sorry I couldn't pick you up. "I had to make arrangements for your arrival." That was my PA, Josh Henderson, a wonderful young man who had just become my best friend. I can't believe how much we never really liked each other in college. Although there's nothing romantic going on between us, this is what I can say. I do remember saying that Grace sets you up for a lifetime. Josh wasn't the worst person I had met, so I was way worse than him, but the one different thing was that he came as an honest hater. He always told me the truth. Sometimes it wasn't a bad truth, his words weren't twisted. Sometimes I began to wonder if he hated me the way he claimed he did, but he was one of the people who made me prove myself to the world, and I know Grace used him to ginger me and get me out of my comfort zone. "Miss Anna, they are ready for you" he said, and I smiled, placing my hands on his while we both walked in and as soon as my presence was felt, you could feel the walls of the magnificent hall collapsing due to the thunderous round of applause, I tried to keep my composure, but I felt like crying out my eyes out, oh it's me, that Anna, who ever thought I could make it this far, but it's all true, I closed my eyes and opened them, but it wasn't an imagination, this one is real oh God it's so real the people are no longer in my thoughts, the decorations are no longer been pictured in my mind, they were all real, Josh left me and went to take his seat in the front row while I gracefully walked up to the stage, as soon as I got there I lowered my head not to them but to God which followed with the sign of the Cross. “Good evening ladies and gentlemen, I am so glad to have you all here. Truly, I'm so honored, and I would love to begin this note by thanking God. I can't deny that I wouldn't be here if not for him. I wouldn't be here. The book “Her Wild Imagination" is not just a story, it's my story, it's about Anna Jenkins or Anna's bad luck, as I would often call myself. Believe me, the bad luck wasn't about dipping your foot in water while wearing a stocking, your umbrella getting spoiled in the rain, or your crush not noticing you. Those things can be forgotten in a day, but some incidents can leave you doubting yourself, over and over again, and I can't begin to imagine just how much of a loser I call myself, and there's always that one question I asked:Why just couldn't it be me? "You know, getting accepted, getting the best part of the meal or getting surprised in a wonderful way it's never me” I paused, trying hard not to cry. I'm not just telling tales most people hear from every successful person out there, but this was my life, my journey, my experience, my pains and tears. They were not just tales. There were moments and I couldn't let them feel I was trying to buy their sympathy because it's way too cheap for my standards now, yes now, because there were times I wanted them to be heard, to be understood, but not anymore. I turned the first page of my book, took a deep breath, I looked up at them and began reading. “Well, anyway, I think it's time ; let's begin, shall we? Her Wild Imagination by Anna Jenkins. I could remember that very afternoon as though it was just yesterday…..