"You can't see the future. I might have a chance. You don't know for sure." He mumbled, making her expression soften.
"M-my mom used to tell me t-that birds still sing even after a storm. Why shouldn't people feel as free t-to delight in whatever su...
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"It's time for your baptism, girl! C'mon now!" The mouth that those utterly frightening words came from was scowled up in a frown with harshly gritted teeth. The tone wasn't godly at all; it was more devilish than anything.
"But daddy, please, I don't w—,"
"You don't get to choose when you want to serve the Lord, girl! You come when called, you hear!" The large man who stood taller than six feet and weighed well over two hundred pounds yanked nine-year-old Nina towards the bathtub despite her imploring to be let go.
Nina screamed from the scorching hot water that her head became submerged in, and a few seconds later, she could feel the burning sensation all over her body as her father, Abraham, dunked her inside the bathtub completely.
When she was let up, she inhaled a large amount of air which caused her to choke on the water that clearly went down the wrong pipe. She wasn't allowed much time to adjust before she was thrown back under the water by her neck, all the while Abraham continued screaming at her.
"Amen!" The church spoke together as the small girl emerged from the water with the help of two men and a wide, overly enthusiastic smile rested on her face.
She was so happy to give her life to the Lord, and she was the youngest girl of the church to do it so far—at the mere age of seven. Her old self was crucified with Christ through the waters of 'death', and now she'd risen with him from the water in a 'newness of life'.
Nina couldn't hold back her tears as she watched the little girl, Jesse, be embraced by her parents with a towel, taking her up in a hug together. It was such a beautiful moment, especially with all of the members of the church clapping and cheering for her in the background.
She could see so much of herself in Jesse. She only hoped that the world was much more welcoming and the path of life was far more easier and peaceful than it was for Nina as a growing adolescent. The thought caused her to go into a small solo prayer for the young girl, and tears dropped onto her open Bible as she prayed.
"Amen." She spoke quietly to herself before reaching up to wipe her wet cheek with a Kleenex napkin.
Her left leg repeatedly bounced in place as a closing prayer was said; a prayer she was all too familiar with. When her father was a pastor, he used the same prayer to close out every service. 9am, 11:30am, 1:30pm services on Sunday, and 6:00pm service on Wednesday, Friday, and Sunday.
Best believe Nina was forced to stay and sit through every service, too. The days were mildly tolerable when her parents had a good day that resulted in a good mood, but oh, Nina painfully dreaded the days when it was the opposite.
Even after all of the therapy she'd been through over the years, Nina still often wondered how two so called Christians—the Bishop and First Lady of the Church, at that—could treat a child the way that her parents did.
