EVER HEARD OF FAITH?
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- Parts 8
"you of little faith," were the words i heard as i hear plates crashing in the living room, as i smell the fire burning the sheets on my bed, as i feel the bruises on the sides of my arm, as i sense the pounding of my heart, writhing to leave my chest and fall onto the floor. bloody & wounded. & here i am hearing these words: as if to spite me & mock me - "oh! i, of little faith."
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Jeanette Arthur had no idea what was going to happen to her when they opened the doors. Was she going to die? Or would she wish she was dead? She began to think that this kind of thing didn't happen to people like her, but she realized how wrong she was. This became her story's end the night she picked up those drinks. When she let herself step into that building, when she accepted that job and put on those clothes. They had made her believe she was important. Special. Worth loving. She had thought all these people wanted her, but they only wanted the lie she was selling. She knew this was no longer pretend. She was no longer in control, and she was no longer the one selling herself. She wanted someone to rewrite her story. So for the first time in her life, she raised up her hands, and she started to pray.
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