Bey
Two days have passed since I last saw Nicki and I miss her so much, I decided to wait a while before I went back to Nic's house. So here I am lying innmy bed looking at the ceiling doing absolutely nothing besides overthinking. Nicki is out with her mother and I am bored out of my mind in the house. I had to make sure my mother, a very "saved" woman, was not getting suspicious about me constantly being out after not really leaving the house since I stopped singing for the church's traveling choir.
I haven't been to church in months and I haven't sang in years. When my father was still around, he was known as pastor Knowles. Well, Pastor Knowles had a reputation, one that I was not fond with and still to this day I don't think I can ever forgive him for.
He liked little girls, especially the little girls at the church. When I was younger my daddy and I would always be so close. He would take me to Bible study, he would do my hair when my mother was too tired to. He would dress me for church, and we went to church 6 days out of the week. I lived in that church and so did my mother, even though she wasn't nearly as devoted as my daddy. She still loved the Lord, now her views are a little different and so is her lifestyle.
We all changed after the incident.
Church was just not the place to hear little girl's screaming for their mommy's when my dad would "show them what Hell felt like" if they would not repent for their sins. Even though a seven-year-old girl had no idea of what life was.
He traumatized several children in that church, none of them ever told, but I knew.
I didn't quite understand what was happening until I was nine-years-old and I stopped my daddy in his tracks only for him to pick me up and depart me outside of the room and continue his blasphemous discipline.
When the truth finally came to light, he fled Houston and started a new life in New York, he has another family of his own.
Once the divorce papers rolled in my mother was not the same, she began drinking and smoking. She became careless and aggressive. She is suffering mentally, but she refuses to seek help.
That's why I'm so torn on religion. I know that God is forgiving but why can't people be just as forgiving? I know what my father did was wrong but they burned that church down and spat on its remains like it meant nothing, because of what Matthew Knowles did to those four little girls.
Now that I am learning more of myself, my sexuality, and who I want to be I wonder if God would forgive me too.
My older sister, Solange, became more quiet than normal. She had lost all of her friends which gave her more time to focus on her studies. She attends Loyola University in Maryland where she studies Psychology and a minor in Africana Studies and also plays volleyball. She attends the church there and describes the entire experience as something she has waited a lifetime for.
Even though my older sister and brother are polar opposites, I am a mixture of them both. I have the attitude of my brother and the patience and wit of my sister.
When you grow up the youngest everyone wants you to take their advice so you become a little bit of everybody.
"Boo bitch," my sister said.
"Are my ears deceiving me?" I spoke sarcastically.
"Ahhh! You bitch you said you weren't coming until Christmas!" I screamed and got up from my bed to jump on my sister.
