Obligatory Disclaimer: This is a story I wrote when I was a teenager. I was attending an Adventist boarding academy at the time, and questioning everything I believed. Writing this story was my excuse to research things. I was also writing this to give to my friends as a Christmas present, and knew they were very selective.
This story is terrible because it was written by a 15 year old. I have edited nothing.
I don’t even want to re read this. Do I have to re read this? Should I insert commentary? I kind of feel like the only commentary I have would be saying “oh my GOD” over and over again as I bang my head against the desk.
So, here it is, unedited, and without commentary.
Bells start ringing. I slip start walking toward the exit, heart pounding. I smile at a few people, trying not to show my fear. In all my years of doing this, I have never quite mastered the technique of staying calm. Oh well, practice makes perfect. I exit the store, forcing myself to walk at a steady pace until I turn the corner, then, I start running,my breath coming out in puffs of white smoke as my feet pound against the pavement.
It isn’t easy to run in 3 inches of snow, not to mention the thick coat, boots, backpack, but I have to run. I have to get there. I reach the ally behind the church and duck behind a statue of Jesus on the cross. I open my backpack, yank out a long black velvet skirt and shove it on over my baggy black cargo pants. I drag out a pair of heels from the backpack, zip it up, and, running barefoot through the icy snow, shove the backpack in the trunk of the car, run up the steps to the church, stopping briefly at the door to put on the heels, open the door and head for the bathroom. I take a few minutes to catch my breath, then I open the stall door –only to bump into Jaimie, my sister.
“You skipped again.”
“And don’t even think I’m gonna tell you what the sermon was about Holly, you wanna deceive people like this, your gonna do it on your own. I’m not gonna help you anymore.” I can’t look at her. Somehow, she always manages to make me feel like crawling into a grave and dying. I walk out of the bathroom, not looking at her. As I come out of the bathroom, I see Renee, my friend, approaching.
“Renee!” I run over to her, “quick,” I whisper, “what was the sermon about?”
“You know this is all gonna catch up with you someday, right?”
“The parable of the sower, darling. The soil in the story represents the soil in our hearts, and the seeds represent the gospel. The seeds land in our hearts, and no matter how hard and crusty the soil is, if we let him, Jesus can make him grow.” Renee looks at me piercingly.
“Thanks Renee.” I say, running out the door of the church.”
“love you Holly!” she calls out to my retreating back.
I jump into the backseat of the car and wait for my sister and mom to get here. They like to talk a lot. I dig my backpack out of the trunk, hike up my skirt, and start pulling stuff out of my pockets and stuffing them into my backpack.
Spanish music CDs, French and German learning CDs, books on new age, and, of course, a satanic bible!!!! I continue pulling out junk until I see my sister come out. I quickly shove my backpack under the seat and yank down my skirt.
Jaimie opens the car door, jumps in and slams it shut. I turn to look out the window. I don’t want to look at her.
“Holly.” I still won’t look at her. “I still love you.” I sigh. Unbidden, a tear falls down my cheek. I wipe my eye and force the rest of them down. I will not let these Adventists win me back. I will never forgive them for what they’ve done to me. And I will never forgive my sister for abandoning me.
“Holly, Jesus loves you too –”
“Do not start that with me again!” I whirl around to face her angrily.
“Holly please —
“No!!! I’m sick of you! You don’t care about me!”
“No!” I turn back to the window and watch my mom take her time moving her butt from the church door to the car.
Jaimie sighed, “Holly… ”
I don’t turn around.
“Holly, how about this; I’ll listen to you about…. whatever you believe, and I won’t interrupt and contradict with what I believe or argue with you.”
“Whats the catch?”
Jaimie silently prays as she speaks, “if you’ll do the same for me.”
Don’t do it. Don’t do it. She doesn’t really love you. She just wants you to be a seventh day adventist!
But I love my sister! And she wouldn’t do this for me if she didn’t really love me, right? I turn around.
I throw my backpack onto my dolphin bedspread, yank off my skirt, and fish stuff out of my pockets and onto the bed. I open the backpack and start pulling out clothes. Lots of clothes. All of them stolen. I unzip my coat and start pulling stuff out of the pockets. Then, I stick my hand through the slit seam and pull stuff out of that too.
I pull out a portable CD player and pair of headphones, newly stolen, and pop in a French conjugation CD. Then I recline back on my blue, fluffy pillows and relax., listening to the annoying voice conjugate French verb after verb.
I spend the rest of the afternoon listening to the CDs I’ve stolen, answering email, and, of course, looking at any other websites I can think of that mom would kill me for even knowing about. Today I make it a point to learn about how to tell different Pine trees apart.
I know, I know, sounds stupid, I know. But I want to be smart. I like to get out in nature, even though I don’t feel close to God anymore, its still comforting, and besides. When I’m smart about something, people listen to me. And When I talk about things I’m smart about, I have the floor. All attention is riveted on me.
I’ve studied criminal law in several different states, taught myself Spanish, French, and German, have memorized half the bible, and am working on Hebrew, Greek, and Enochian, the latter one being the language of the satanist rituals. I’m researching new age too, thought the 2 are not exactly synonyms. Sometimes, when I’m talking about something, my sister even listens to me, though thats rare. Mainly it gets the attention of my friends.(or lack thereof actually.) I’m still learning about the bible, even though I hate God, because it gets attention when I talk about it, plus it makes people think its impossible for me to pull off all the things I’d been doing lately.
At 5:30, I head downstairs for sundown worship. mom prays, and, as usual the prayer is long and boring, and, as usual, I sit down on my butt, eyes open, and glaring. After the prayer we have a discussion on some biblical passage.
After worship, my sister took me out to rent a movie.
“I don’t wanna talk now.”
“Fine. We don’t have to. But can I at least say something???”
“I think your going to weather I let you or not.”
she sighed, “Holly, I don’t mean to be so busy all the time that I can’t talk to you, but please, don’t take out your anger on God –”
“ I hate God!”
“Holly, please, give him a chance…. what happened?”
“You used to love God, Holly, you were one of the most spiritual people I knew. Now, you hate God and don’t want anything to do with him, why?”
Jaimie didn’t say anything, just pulls into the parking lot and gets out of the car. The movie we end up picking is “Saved.” Its about these girls at a Christian school. It looks interesting enough that I will be able to suffer through it. I watch the movie with my family that night, my mom putting her arms around me. It is at times like this when I can relax. It Is at times like this when I can almost imagine that I can go back to being a Seventh Day Adventist. Almost. But I know I can never go back, I’ve gone too far. I am rejecting God, and He won’t care about me anymore.