BerkVille: Act 2

take Me to church!

Beneath the cozy roof of my three bedroom apartment came the sound of sizzling. A knife thud the chopping board as it sliced through chicken and veggies, a tall pan of potatoes brought to a raucous boil and the oven crisped the cheese pyramided throughout the golden swirly noodles of mac. And the one brewing this extravagant feast was none other than my sister.

Whilst she did that, my mother was washing and hanging the clothes, visibly upset that the neighbors were playing their country and western tunes a bit too loud. There wasn't much clothes left for her to rinse and she would be done for the day to rest her aching feet. She grew up doing this which is why she was more quick and efficient than the both of us.

And there I was, going up and down the house with my phone in hand, playing dress-up mobile games while I listened to Beyoncé's succulent voice gallop through my ear canals. I stopped at the window and watched as people from all walks of life poured into the nearby church, men, women, and children all equipped with the word. Soon after the pastor started preaching, they started to fill the area with their worship and hymns.

Although my sister and mother are devout Christians who believes you can love the lord without attending hypocritical churches, I incline more toward atheism. When I was younger, all of us used to attend my aunt's church, but one Sunday we skipped a service and never went back.

Religion has never struck a chord with me. I felt guilty and evil for not feeling "the holy ghost" and identifying the stories with blatant lies and gaps right away. Nevertheless, given that society has ingrained these falsehoods and unfair interpretations of the scriptures in me from birth, it seems as though they have always been a part of me. Almost baked into my existence. I suppose this is why it's ten times more difficult to love myself correctly.

10:45 a.m
   Mandy's eyes quivered open. She massaged her eyes one by one as they dotted around, trying to get a hold of reality and haul herself out of the deep abyss of sleep that had exploded from under her. She picked up her phone and became irritated when she saw the time. Her typical weekend wake up time was not at this hour, so she was very upset with whoever was laughing, singing, and loudly clacking glasses against each other.

    Pouring out from her bed with her comforter wrapped around her, she trudged to the place that festered the noise. She discovered her mother sitting with a number of local churchgoers, along with a large platter of appetizers and nonalcoholic wine. Is this the reason behind her recent large grocery purchase?

"Good morning everyone. What's going on?"

"Oh, I brought the pastor here to speak with you Mandy!"

"Huh? Why?"

"Well-" the pastor rested his glass on the tray "your mother wanted me to come by to speak with you on your actions and how hurtful and disruptive they've been lately. I heard you have even deployed your boyfriend into a war of words with her!"

"What?! Yeah, I'm not doing this!" Mandy said as she hassled back into her room and banged the door shut.

"See what I'm dealing with pastor?"

"Yes, yes! You may have a lot of work on your hands but the lord will intervene!"

"Thank you. I trust he will!"

"Let's say a quick prayer before I go!"

"Pray for her to stop liking ugly men too!" Mandy's voice came through her room door.

11:23 a.m
   There was a simpatico church in Carson's affluent neighborhood, paid for and furnished by the neighbors. The doors looked like the handcrafted entryway to ancient temples. Your soul peered back through the shiny mirror dimension sewn into the tiles as you strolled down the hall. There were thousands of candles lit everywhere, particularly around the alter. The sanctuary, where chalices were perched atop the enormous cross known as Christ's death bed, was located next to the above level podium that held the largest bible one could ever lay eyes on.