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Chloe's Voice:
Hi, my name is Chloe, and I want to take you on a journey of how I struggled with sin. I'm a young girl who loves God and who wishes to get closer to Him, but there's a sin I struggle with, something that has followed me for a while now.
I live with my mom and my brother. My father isn't around much; he claims he's always busy at work. My brother Benjamin is 18 years old, and I'm only 13.
The struggle with sin began one faithful evening when my mom was cooking dinner.
"Mom, I'm so hungry," I said, waiting for my food.
"In a bit, my dear. Go call your brother, Benjamin. Dinner will be ready in 2 minutes," she said.
I frowned. "Why should I go call him? If he's hungry, he'll come down here himself."
She gave me a sharp look. "Go call your brother now. We're eating as a family tonight."
Sighing, I walked towards his room. As I approached his door, I started to hear strange noises coming from inside. I couldn't figure out what it was at first, but as I got closer, the sound grew louder. My curiosity kicked in.
I stopped by the door and was about to knock, but just before I could, Benjamin suddenly opened the door, and we both froze.
"What are you doing? Were you about to come into my room without knocking?" he asked, his voice a mix of surprise and irritation.
I was confused. "I... I was just coming to call you for dinner. What's going on in there?"
He quickly brushed me off. "Next time, knock before you enter someone else's room. Don't go poking around where you're not supposed to."
I felt embarrassed, but his words made me wonder more about what I had heard. I didn't think much of it at the time, but my curiosity began to grow.
For the next few days, I noticed Benjamin spending a lot of time in his room, more than usual. I didn't think much of it at first, but the curiosity kept growing inside me.
Then one night, after bidding my mom goodnight, I lay in bed, trying to sleep. But sleep wouldn't come. I was thirsty. I got up to get some water, only to find that the jug near my bed was empty.
I walked to the kitchen, filled my jug, and was about to head back to my room when I heard the same strange noises again. This time, it was coming from Benjamin's room.
I stood there, frozen for a moment, trying to figure out what was going on. My heart was racing. Curiosity took over, and I decided to quietly peek inside his room.
As I slowly opened the door, I couldn't believe my eyes. There was Benjamin, doing something I didn't understand at first, but he was touching himself, moving his hand up and down his private part. His eyes were closed, his body was tense, and there was an expression of pleasure on his face.
I felt strange seeing him like this, but I couldn't look away. With every stroke, his eyes lit up more, and I knew something was happening—something that had to do with pleasure. But I didn't know what it was.
Suddenly, Benjamin's eyes opened, and he saw me standing there. He quickly pulled away, and his face turned pale.
"Chloe! What are you doing here?" he demanded, quickly putting his pants on.
I didn't know what to say. My heart was pounding. He stared at me for a long moment, then softened. "Look, don't tell mom about this. Please," he whispered, his voice pleading.
I nodded, unsure of what to say, and quickly left the room.
I couldn't stop thinking about what I had just seen.
That night, as I lay in bed, I felt so confused. I couldn't sleep. My mind kept replaying the image of Benjamin. Something inside me told me what I saw wasn't right, but at the same time, part of me thought, If he's doing it, then maybe it's okay for me too.
I tried to sleep, but I couldn't. And so, I did what he did. I reached down and touched myself. I started off slow, unsure, but then the pleasure I felt made me want to keep going. I told myself it was okay. It was just something to do. It wasn't that bad, right?
But deep down, I knew it wasn't right. I knew I shouldn't have done it, but the curiosity, the pleasure, it kept calling me back. And so, I did it again. And again.
From that moment on, I couldn't stop. Every time I was alone, the urge would come back, and I would give in. The guilt was always there, but I couldn't help myself.
I prayed to God. I asked Him to take this away from me, to stop me from doing it. But every time I tried to stop, the temptation would come back stronger. I would feel so ashamed afterward, but I'd fall into the cycle again.
And so, I struggled. I kept fighting the guilt and the temptation. I wanted to stop. I wanted to be better. I wanted to feel pure again.
But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't break free. The struggle with sin felt like a battle I couldn't win.
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