Third person point of view.
Alabado sea el señor.
Alabado sea el señor.
Doblar las manos.
“Let’s thank God for giving us life and for everything He has done for us. Close your eyes, fold your hands, and repeat after me:
“Le agradezcoa a dios cada día me que curé. ¡Dious es grande!
“Pray to the Lord because He knows you. He is the only one that can cure you, I cast and bind every spirit of evil and destruction in our lives. May the Lord be our savior and shield.” We were about closing prayers when we heard a voice, a voice of a little girl.
"I have a confession." She said, she stood near the exit door by the left.
"What is it my child?" Mother Josephine asked.
"Forgive me Lord for I have sinned." She said in a low voice. The girl looked familiar, as if I have seen her before. She looked so much like her, like Lara but I knew it wasn't her. The little girl had a freckle on her face which Lara didn't have.
"Come here my child, confess you sins and I'm sure the Lord would forgive you." Mother Josephine said.
"Forgive me Lord for I have sinned." The girl said again.
"What is your confession my child." The mother asked again.
"I killed one of the nuns in this church." The little girl whispered but everyone heard her. A loud gasp was heard when she said that. Everyone looked around trying to understand what she was trying to say? Mother Josephine stepped back from her.
"What are you saying?, Who did you kill?." Mother Josephine asked in a scared voice.
"Mother Josephine." The little girl said. "Mother Josephine." She looked so creepy, she kept repeating Mother Josephine's name then she fainted.
Few minutes later, some men walked in with a stretcher and took the girl away. They announced that the girl was mentally unstable and that she had escaped from the asylum.
"The child is troubled, May the Lord cure her of what she is going through? May she Lord be her strength. Mother Josephine said.
The church was full today as the second service ended. With so many people, I had a hard time finding my mom. I’m sure she’s probably with the nuns. We were one of the most religious families in the town; my father is a well-known knight of the church. To us, nothing was more important than God.
However, being a child in a religious family was hard. I wasn’t allowed to do what other kids could do. Don’t get me wrong—I love my family, but they’re just too strict, I don't get to do things kids my age do. I was preoccupied with my thoughts until my mom called me.
“Isabelle, come here,” she said. She was talking to the nuns as I expected. “This is my daughter, Isabelle.”
One nun smiled at me until it changed to a sudden frown.
“What happened, Mother?” my mother asked.
Mother Theresa took a minute before she spoke, “Nothing.”
"Are you sure Mother? You seem worried." My mother asked.
"I'm fine, nothing is wrong?"
My mom was about to speak when her phone rang, and she excused herself. I was about to leave when Mother Theresa called me back.
"Listen to me carefully, you have to do it, you can't back out. You are the one that has to do it." She said while holding my hand.
"What are you saying Mother? I don't understand."
"He is going to come, he will soon come to finish what he started." She said with worry in her eyes.
"Mother why are you worried? You are scaring me, what are you talking about? Who is coming Mother?"
“Listen to me carefully. He’s coming, but I want you to do something. ¡Dios es grandioso! Just have faith. Never lose faith, have faith my daughter, he will come, he is coming.”
I was about to talk when something tapped my shoulder. I shifted to the source, but no one was there. When I swirled back, Mother Theresa was gone. What does she mean by He’s coming? Who’s coming? What was she talking about? What does she mean by I am the one? I strolled fast, searching for her until I bumped into my mother.
“Hey, hey, where are you going?” she asked.
"I'm going to see the nun. Mom have you seen the nun." I asked.
"Who?" Mother asked.
“Mom, where is Mother Theresa?” I asked.
“Who? What are you talking about?”
“Mom, don’t you remember? You just introduced me to her. I was standing over there. You told me to come and meet her until you got a call and left.” I said pointing the spot I was standing before.
“No, Isabelle, I called you to meet Mother Esther, there is no Mother Theresa in this church".
"What are you saying darling?, There isn't any Mother Theresa here, Are you alright?." My mother asked.
How can she forget? “No, mom, that’s not who we met, I'm sure there is a Mother Theresa here, ask them mom".
"Isa."
"Mom can't you remember? Are you sure you can't remember it happened few minutes ago."
“Isabelle. You looked tired. Maybe that’s why you’re hallucinating. Let’s go, okay?”
I was not hallucinating. What happened was real. We were about to leave the church when I spotted a statue towards the garden.
“Mom, I forgot my phone inside the church”. I said
“Okay, go get it, darling, I will be outside waiting for you", she said.
As I approached and inspected the statue, it was the spitting image of Mother Theresa. I also discovered something written under it. It read:
“In the memory of Theresa Toad. Born 1670, Died 1990.”
Flash Back.
Isabelle.
I was just five when I was introduced to the tradition, my father said I would start waking up by 3am in the morning, I won't eat I will take a fast until I go to the church. Father said it was important and I needed to do it.
I had no idea what all these meant, I was just three, I didn't have the privileges the other kids had, I had no toys, I had no friends, I wasn't allowed to go to school, dance or take part in any school event. I was very little when I had to learn all these, I got matured before my age.
I woke up that morning, even earlier than usual, I took a bath and wore the dress mom kept for me last night. It was a yellow sundress with a yellow matching sock and a white canvas. I was seated on my bed waiting for mom when I heard her knock on the door.
"Come in mom, it's open." I said loudly.
"Buenos honey (Good morning honey.) How was your night?" Mom asked while coming into my room.
"Good, mom."
"We are waiting for you honey downstairs." My mother said.
"Yes mom." I quickly ran downstairs, Mom gave me a smile, she was about to say something when a voice interrupted her.
"Where is your scarf?" My father said in a loud voice that made me step back a little bit. "Go cover your hair." He said again.
My mother took me upstairs and covered my hair, Dad was so angry that he didn't speak to me throughout the day. That was the first day I felt Dad's anger.