Follow You - (Oliver Sykes Fanfic)

Chapter 1 - Evil

Evelyn's POV

Tuesday

I like to divide the problem of evil into three categories. The first category being; the problem of suffering. The second one being the etymological problem of evil. And the third, the paradoxical problem of evil.

The problem of suffering. If there is a God, why would he allow suffering in the Earth?

The etymological problem of evil. If God is all good how would he create evil if he is an intrinsically good being? Where did the evil come from?

Third, the paradoxical form of the problem of evil. If there is still evil but God is still loving, that means there's obviously something God can't do about the evil; so he must not be all powerful.

Since there is still evil, and God is still powerful then he must not be all loving because he can do something about the evil but doesn't get rid of it.

So, I had come to the conclusion that; God is the evil.

That was the beliefs I had chosen; much like my father. We both walked the same rocky pathway. And for walking that direction, we would ultimately both end up in the same place, too. The thought pleased me. I loved my father very much. Even after death, I would not want to be separated from him.

Although, these beliefs often caused us drama, from people who couldn't accept our way of thinking.

That was what I was thinking, as I leant out of my bedroom window, looking down at the small protest on our lawn. Christians had gathered, with big crosses and signs, chanting things about God. It was as if they thought we would hiss, and shy away from the light, our eyes flickering red. But that wasn't the reality. They had pinned us as something evil for having different beliefs.

The protest hadn't been going on for long. Just a few hours. My dad had expected this, and told me to ignore them, and that if they didn't leave when the day was up he would get rid of them. We had just moved to this neighbourhood a few days ago and this was our welcoming.

At least my dad would be closer to his friends here, there was much more entertainment, and opportunities too.

The door to the house next door flung open. A boy paced down the stairs of the porch and shuffled toward the protest. I sighed. Was my next door neighbour a part of this protest, too?

Apparently not. He didn't go into the crowd, instead standing a few feet away. He raised his hands to his mouth. I cocked my head to one side, he was about to shout something. Something loud, something he wanted to be heard. I could tell.

"Fuck off!" He yelled. "I'm trying to sleep! Stop harassing these poor people you assholes!"

I stifled a laugh as the people turned to him, their mouths agape. One of them held their cross up to him. He scoffed and spat on the ground, causing them to back away a little more.

"Go on. Keep going. Back it up." Strangely enough, they were listening to him, slowly retreating to their cars.

In a minute or two, the scene had completely changed. The raging crowd outside our house was gone. All by the words of one boy. I studied him a little closer as he picked up a sign someone had dropped, before chuckling, and ripping it in half.

With that, he tucked his hands into his pockets, and started to leave. Just before he walked up the steps to his house, he glanced up, and for a brief moment our eyes connected. He gave me a small smile and took his hand out of his pocket to wave. I waved back, mouthing a 'thank you.'