7 8 Lay them straight
9 10 A big fat hen
11 12 What is happening to me?
First Baptist Church was solemn today. The name was deceptive or so she thought when she had first stepped into the church. She’d been raised Baptist so when she had an opportunity to choose her own church, she stuck to what she knew (with no interference) and went for a Baptist Church. This church however, was Baptist it seemed, in name only. The praise and worship was almost purely pentecostal in nature. The prayer sessions rivalled those of Mountain of Fire Ministries and the people were very friendly. It was a testament to her admiration for the church that she had never slept inside it.
She was a part of the workforce now and though her entire body was rebelling, she would follow through on the promise she had made when she had joined the workforce.
But when she opened her mouth to sing; a scream, not unlike the ones heard in horror movies, came out instead. The congregation paused. Concerned faces turned to watch her. She made a gesture meant to reassure them and continued to sing.
When the service was near over and the congregation was saying grace, a heartbroken sob rent the air. The person to whom the voice belonged ran out to the toilets. Jennifer followed.
In the toilet, screams of outrage, pain and a tinge of a madness waiting to be unleashed combined. Worse, the owner of the voice had locked herself in a toilet stall. Soon the female bathroom was overrun with practically everyone in the pastorate, male and female.
The situation was similar to the hostage situations she watched on television.
Someone had to stop this. Someone.
“Everybody, file out now” she commanded.
No one moved.
She repeated it in a louder voice. They shifted but did not move.
“I said, GET OUT!”. They startled. The voice in the stall ceased to wail so plaintively. But no one moved.
So she located the most senior pastor.
“Forgive me sir, for what I’m about to do”
And then she shoved him out of the bathroom. Everyone else filed out meekly.
Soon she was alone, except for the red shoed girl in the toilet stall. They looked familiar for some reason.
She started talking to the girl, trying to reassure her. Soon however, her
voice started to break and she started crying profusely. The voice in the stall ceased it’s caterwauling and soon began to chuckle. A roll of tissue was handed to her from the crevice between the toilet stall door and the floor.
She blew her nose very loudly, prompting another round of laughter, this time full blown. She had a rich laugh, Jennifer thought irritably. Just like a child who begins to laugh just when you begin to cry. And the feet she was staring at most definitely did not belong to a child.
The door creaked. The lock was disengaged. Jennifer had slid to the floor.
The girl stepped out. She looked like, she looked and dressed exactly like her. Down to her favourite red shoes.