It was a parent’s worst nightmare come true when the Wesenbergs lost their little son Ted one Sunday afternoon. Unfortunately, it happened in a place that was supposed to be the safest for the family, where nothing should have gone wrong, yet everything did.
The Wesenbergs found Ted dead in their swimming pool. His body was floating like a pool float, and Paul Wesenberg had dived into the water to save his son, but it was too late—neither his mouth-to-mouth nor the paramedics he’d dialed could bring his son back.
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Linda Wesenberg couldn’t bear the sorrow of losing her son, and she sat as pale, numb, and motionless as her late son at his funeral. Then as a week went by without Ted in the Wesenberg household, things turned chaotic, brutal even, and so harsh that little Clark couldn’t stand it…
Linda and Paul were struggling to cope with their loss, and they fought every day, every time. Clark heard loud noises from his parents’ room every night, and his mommy would get frustrated and eventually cry.
His daddy would blame his mommy for Ted’s death, and his mommy would blame everything on his daddy. Clark hid under his blanket every night, clutching his teddy bear and sobbing whenever he heard his parents bickering.
No loss is so profound that love cannot heal it.
When Ted was there with him, things had been so different. Their parents rarely argued back then, and his mommy was never sad and upset. She would kiss him goodnight and hug him before she tucked him in bed, but she no longer did any of that now.
She had also stopped making breakfast and often stayed in bed, telling him she was ill. Paul always made them toast and eggs for breakfast now, and he had started arriving home early to prepare dinner for them, but his cooking was not even close to Linda’s.
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Clark missed his brother. He missed Ted so badly that he wished he had gone to the place where his brother was… because their parents no longer cared about their son, who was still alive.
All they cared about was who was to blame for their other son’s death.
One evening, things went from bad to worse. Clark heard his parents arguing again, and he was so frustrated that he couldn’t stand it. “Mommy! Daddy! Please stop!” he yelled as he stormed into their bedroom. “Please stop! I don’t like it when you fight!”
“Look, Paul!” his mother hissed. “I lost Ted because of you, and now Clark hates you!”
“Oh really, Linda?” Paul shot back. “And what about you? I don’t think Clark’s in awe of you!”
Clark’s parents forgot he was in their room and continued to argue. They began blaming each other for Ted’s death again, and Clark decided he didn’t want to stay there any longer. Their home was filled with screams and tears since Ted left, and Clark had started despising his home.
“I hate you both…” he whispered, tears running down his cheeks. “I HATE YOU, MOMMY AND DADDY! I don’t want to live with you! I’m going to meet Ted because only he loved me!”
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Ted ran away from his parents’ room and out the front door. He paused to collect the dahlias he and Ted grew in their garden before running away to Ted’s grave in the cemetery only blocks away from their home.
“Look, you made him cry again. I’m sure you’re relieved now!” Paul snarled.
“I made him cry? Stop acting like I’m the bad person here!”
Linda and Paul continued to bicker, unconcerned about their little son, who’d run away to the cemetery alone. Clark sobbed as he pressed his fingertips against his brother’s gravestone and ran his fingers over the inscription.
“In the beloved memory of Ted Wesenberg,” read the engraving.
Clark bawled his eyes out at the sight of his brother’s grave. He missed Ted so much!
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“I… I m—miss you, Ted,” he wept. “Could you please ask the angels to return you?”
“…and mommy and daddy are constantly arguing. Ted, they no longer love me. They hate me, and they don’t care about me. Could you please come back, Ted? Please? Nobody plays football with me, not even daddy…”
Clark had never felt so alone in his life. He placed the dahlias against his brother’s grave and sat down on the prickly grass, telling him about his heart’s concerns and how ignored and forgotten he felt.
Clark couldn’t stop crying as he told Ted how much he missed him, how difficult life was without him, and how much their parents had changed. He complained to him about the burnt breakfasts, how he had stopped growing dahlias, and how lonely he was.
Clark’s heart was so at ease after finally sharing his worries with his brother that he didn’t notice when the hours passed, and the sky darkened. The cemetery became deserted, and there wasn’t a single soul in sight. Yet, Clark decided not to go home because it was the first time since Ted’s death that he felt at peace.
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Suddenly, he heard the rustling of dried leaves behind him. Clark looked around in fright. Who could’ve come to the gravesite at this hour? He sprang to his feet in terror as the sound grew louder and louder, still searching about.
Terrified he wasn’t alone, Clark whirled back to run, but he was too late. He saw several men clad in black robes approaching him. Their faces were obscured with hoods, and they held firebrands.
“See who has arrived in our dark kingdom! You shouldn’t have risked coming here, boy!” shouted one of the men.
“Who… who are you?” Clark asked in tears. “Please let me go!”
Clark was shaking in fear and didn’t know how to get himself out of trouble. The men didn’t let him leave.
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Clark was terrified of the dudes in robes, but then he heard a man’s booming voice. “Chad, back off! How many times will I tell you not to gather in my graveyard with your idiotic pals dressed in cult garb?”
Clark noticed the tall, well-dressed man in his 50s, as he approached. “Don’t worry, boy,” he said to Clark. “These boys won’t do anything. They’re worse than kids!”
“Oh, c’mon, Mr. Bowen!” The dude who stood face-to-face with Clark pulled off his hood and sighed. “Where else are our cult’s activities intended to take place if not here in a cemetery?”
“How about you stop burning your lousy report cards here and start studying instead? Back off, or I’ll tell your mother you often smoke here! I’m sure you wouldn’t take that chance. Now, you,” he gestured to Clark. “Come here, kid. Let’s get you home.”
Mr. Bowen seemed like a nice man to Clark. He dashed up to him and grasped his outstretched arm. Mr. Bowen took the boy to a small cabin and served him hot chocolate.
“What were you doing here at this hour?” the older man asked Clark.
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Mr. Bowen appeared to be a kind man, so Clark opened up to him about his parents and brother, how their lives had turned into a living hell since Ted died, and how he didn’t like his parents and didn’t want to go home.
***
Back home, Linda was panicking. She dialed Paul several times, but he wasn’t answering. It’d been over two hours since Paul left home after their quarrel.
She had been sitting at the kitchen table, venting to her friend on the phone all this while. As soon as she hung up and looked around, it hit her: Clark wasn’t around. Where’s Clark?
Linda’s heart was racing as she looked at the clock. It was past 11 p.m. when she checked Clark’s room and found him missing. Linda then went into the other rooms, the bathrooms, and the backyard, but Clark was nowhere to be found. To her, it was as if he’d vanished into thin air.
She called Paul again, no answer. “Pick your darn phone, Paul!” she cried. “Oh gosh! What do I do now?”
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Linda paced nervously in her living room. She had no idea where to look for Clark until… she remembered him coming into the bedroom when she and Paul were arguing.
“The cemetery!” she recalled. “He was going to meet Ted!”
Linda grabbed the house keys, locked the door, and hurried to the cemetery. As she turned to the first street, she saw Paul’s car. He pulled over and rolled down his window.
“What are you doing here?” he asked.
“Clark isn’t home yet!” she said, getting inside the car. “Drive to the cemetery now!”
“What the hell?” Paul cried, starting the engine. “But when… did he never come back?”
“No, Paul! We were, well…” she paused. “We were so busy arguing that we didn’t notice!”
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Paul and Linda hurried to Ted’s grave as soon as they got to the cemetery. But there was no sign of Clark.
“Clark!” Linda shouted. “Honey, where are you?”
Right then, Paul nudged Linda. “Linda!” he cried. “What the hell is going on there!? Look!”
Paul and Linda were taken aback when they noticed a fire in the distance and heard voices performing chants. As they approached the gathering, they saw several teens dressed in black robes performing some sort of ceremony.
“Oh Lord,” Linda cried out. “Could they… have done something to Clark? Oh no, we’ve just lost Ted, and now—”
“Linda, no,” Paul consoled her. “Let’s not jump to any conclusions. Wait right here. Excuse me, boys,” he began hesitantly, approaching them. “Is it possible you saw this boy here…”
One of the boys smirked as Paul showed them a photo of Clark. “Your son arrived at the wrong place at the wrong time!” he shouted. “Your son should not have come!”
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Paul looked intently at the teen, then at his friends. In those robes, they all appeared nothing but dumb, and they’d been burning what appeared to be their grade cards.
“Oh really?” he asked, putting his phone in his back pocket. “Well…” Paul grabbed the boy’s collar and yanked him forward.
“Listen, kid; You’d better speak out, or you’re going home with a broken nose!”
“Woah, woah, okay! Relax!” the boy Paul had warned said. “I’m…I’m Chad! And I saw your son. We did nothing to him! Mr. Bowen, the graveyard guard, grabbed him.”
“What?”
“He… he took your son, sir. I swear. He lives right outside the cemetery! We just come here every night to scare people, that’s all!”
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***
When Paul and Linda arrived at Mr. Bowen’s cottage, they noticed Clark and Mr. Bowen seated on a sofa through the window. The parents wanted to burst inside and hug their son but stopped in their tracks when they overheard him talking.
Paul and Linda were embarrassed. They listened in tears and shock as Clark spoke about his heart’s worries, and Mr. Bowen advised him to reconcile with his parents. “They still adore you, little boy,” the older man said. “Look, kid. I lost my wife and child. Their plane crashed, and I’ve lived in this nightmare for years, missing them every single day and night. What’s happened in your family is any parent’s worst nightmare come true. How about we be kinder to them?”
Clark agreed, nodding at some point.
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Instead of grieving the loss of what you don’t have, take the opportunity to appreciate what you do have.
Paul and Linda could no longer wait.
“I’m so sorry, honey!” Linda cried as she and Paul stormed into the cottage. She held her boy close as her tears flowed freely.
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Paul looked at Mr. Bowen apologetically and thanked him for saving Clark. “Thank you,” he said. “Thank you so much for what you did for our family just now.”
“No problem. I know the hell you’re going through. So, I understand. Hang in there.”
Eventually, Mr. Bowen became the Wesenbergs’ close friend. In months, idyll returned to this family’s household. They could heal from Ted’s loss and finally look at life positively.
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Meet Nyakim Gatwec, A Model That Was Dubbed ‘Queen Of The Dark’
The woman was shocked when her Uber driver uninvitedly offered advise on how to take care of her beautiful skin.
The “Queen of the Dark,” as the fashion diva was affectionately called, laughed off his comments and embraced her breathtaking beauty.
Continue reading to find out what this Uber driver said her and how she utilized it as a teaching moment!
Nyakim Gatwech, who spent her early years in refugee camps in Ethiopia and Kenya, thought that living in America would “be like heaven.”
But when Gatwech moved to Buffalo at the age of 14, she stayed by herself a lot, crying over comments made about her very dark skin tone.
“You don’t wash your hair. Because of this, your skin is filthy.Or, “Nyakim, smile so we can see you. You are invisible to us. You have dirty skin as a result. Or grin for us to see you, Nyakim. We cannot see you.
In class, for example, the instructor might ask a question and say, “Oh, Nyakim, can you answer that?””How about a toddler asking, “Who are you talking to?”? We cannot see her. She’s not here. The now 31-year-old woman says, “I would just cry, and the whole class would start laughing,” as reported by Cosmopolitan.
The innocent young girl just wanted to fit in, but it was difficult when random people were speculating about whether or not she was indeed that dark-skinned and whether or not she was wearing leggings.
I did think about [bleaching my skin] at one time. I was 14 years old when I fled an African refugee camp and moved to Buffalo, New York. The beauty admits, “After being teased [about my skin], I would cry myself to sleep.””So many stunning Sudanese women with dark skin tones bleach their skin.”
The model continued by saying that her own sister was one of the Sudanese ladies who had bleached her skin.”It was my own sister.” However, after a few months of living in America, I told her that I wanted to, and she said no. I will not allow my kid, you, or anyone else to do it.
Dark Queen
The woman, who has encountered prejudice from makeup artists, designers, and other models, is now referred to as the Queen of the Dark and feels strong since she has triumphed over the criticism.
Additionally, Gatwech’s 962,000 dedicated Instagram fans encourage her self-assurance and amazing fondness for her deep chocolate skin tone.
“My chocolate is sophisticated. Thus, I stand for this. A country of fighters,” she writes in one of her posts.
And the incredibly beautiful woman’s admirers can’t get enough of her.
One fan writes, “Omgggggg I love your skin and melanin,” while another exclaims, “I love your beautiful skin tone so much!” God creates exquisite things like you to serve as a constant reminder of His majesty.
In response to the tremendous outpouring of love, Gatwech adds, “I learned to love myself.I’m not troubled by the negative anymore. I love and embrace my skin, and I no longer feel insecure about it. I no longer believe I’m ugly. I am confident in who I am.
“The silliest queries”
Speaking about her odd skin, Gatwech recounts about meeting an Uber driver a few years ago who asked if she would ever consider whitening it.
“Oh, you’re dark,” he remarked.Gatwech describes her chat with the driver to Cosmopolitan.”I merely chuckled. I was curious as to why he felt that I ought to. He said that because it would make my life simpler. If I were lighter, I could get into a relationship more easily and guys would be more drawn to me. I’m lighter, so if I went to a job interview, I would receive the opportunity. I just responded, “I’d rather take the [hard] road, even if] being lighter would make my life easier.”
The woman goes on, “I’m used to people asking the stupidest questions ever [about my skin].”
Gatwech then shared the story on Instagram along with a stunning picture of herself with three other stunning dark-skinned Sudanese women.
“A country with people so dark you won’t believe your eyes,” the author writes. Teeth so brilliant, skin so rich. Oh, how I cherish my nation, my people, and all that it entails.
“[SIC] I was asking my Uber driver the other day, and he said, don’t take this personally, but would you bleach your skin for ten thousand dollars?” she says, going on to describe her interaction with the driver. I couldn’t even respond because I was laughing so much.He then responded, “So that’s a no,” to which I replied, “Hell to the f*king yeah, that’s a no, why would I ever bleach this gorgeous melanin that God bless with me?””So you see it as a blessing,” he continued.
Her backers applauded Gatwech right away and raced to her defense.
“I suppose he missed the memo.”Black is gorgeous,” an admirer writes.
Another person says, “I cherish you for cherishing me.”A third wonders, “Why would we ever want to mess up something so beautiful?”
Asking Yahoo Beauty for guidance, she said, “You are beautiful, you are unique, and there are people who love you just the way you are” to young black girls suffering comparable struggles. It’s said that the juice of a cherry is sweeter the darker it is. Accept your gloom!
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