"I'm back," I said, closing the door. I looked at my family, tears blurring my vision.
"Oh my goodness, I thought something bad happened to you!" Mrs. Broncos exclaimed, pulling me into a tight embrace. Her warmth caught me off guard, confusion washing over me.
"I'm alive and okay," I murmured.
"Where were you? Do you know how worried I was?" Dad shouted, his voice echoing through the house.
"I was at school," I replied, my voice small, caught between fear and irritation.
"I've been calling you, and you weren't picking up your phone! Do you know how worried I was?" he yelled again.
"Baby" Mrs. Broncos utterd
"No, honey, she's in the wrong, and she needs to be reprimanded," he said firmly. "You should tell us where you're going because I called the school—and it was long closed. So where the hell were you?"
"And why the hell do you care?" I snapped, the words tumbling out before I could stop them. "Why do you care where I was, with who, doing what—when you didn't care for sixteen years of my life? Whether I slept with food on my stomach or not, or the hours I came home late? Me and my mom begged for food at eight o'clock at night from neighbors! Where were you at that time? So don't stand here pretending you suddenly care about me.
"And for your information, I got caught up at the local library," I yelled, taking out the after-book. "Oh, and yes, someone was helping me finish my notes since I left my book at home. So instead of creating drama, maybe ask before jumping to stupid conclusions!"
I stormed off to my room, slamming the door behind me. My body hit the bed, and I sobbed into my pillow.
I instantly regretted being rude to my dad. I'm sorry. I half-lied to him, though—but the rest was true.
I don't know... I try so hard to forgive my dad, but every time I look at him, I see the man who caused my mother pain, who ruined her future, who left her alone. She lived in sorrow for the rest of her life because of him. Every time I see his face, I see her scars. My anger turns to hatred, though I try, I truly try, to forgive him. But where was he for sixteen years of my life?
Through my tears, my phone rang. I picked it up—it was Slavvy. A small smile tugged at my lips. I wiped my tears and answered.
"Hey," he said softly, and I immediately melted.
"Hey," my voice squeaked.
"Are you okay? I hope I didn't get you into trouble," he said, guilt heavy in his tone.
"No, no, it's nothing like that. I just had a little misunderstanding with my dad, that's all," I confessed.
"It's because of me... I'm sorry," he whispered.
"Don't worry about it," I said quickly. "You better finish that food you ordered—don't throw it away."
He chuckled. "Why did you make me order another set of food?"
"I did not!" I defended, and he laughed again, making me smile.
We talked for two hours until I could barely keep my eyes open.
"I have to sleep; I'm really tired," I said softly.
"No problem, . Goodnight," he whispered.
"Goodnight," I murmured, ending the call.
I wasn't hungry anyway. I locked my door, lay down, and drifted into sleep.
---
My first week at Balthany High School wasn't that bad—unlike how novels and movies make it seem, where the new girl always gets bullied. It was... okay.
That morning, I was in my room, getting ready for church. Turns out, I'm the only one in this family who goes. The church is just ten minutes away from my house.
I wore a long, silky dress with crystal heels, carried a black purse, and tucked my Bible under my arm.
"Good morning," Mrs. Broncos greeted cheerfully from the kitchen as I came down the stairs.
"Morning," I said simply.
"Off to church?" she asked, smiling widely.
"Yes," I replied just as my dad appeared at the stairs.
"I have to go," I said, heading for the door.
"Testimony," Dad called, but I ignored him, slamming the door behind me.
I slipped off my heels—no way was I walking ten minutes in those.
Before reaching church, I put them back on and stepped inside. The ushers smiled warmly, and I took my usual seat. I'm always ten minutes early.
I scrolled through my phone until my friend Latoya appeared. I met her two months ago when I first joined the church. She's very kind and friendly—a beautiful, light-skinned girl with short hair and soft brown eyes. Truly beautiful beyond words.
"Hey, baby," she greeted, giving me a hug.
"Morning," I said, hugging her back.
"You look amazing," I complimented. Her black fitted dress suited her perfectly.
"You look ravishing yourself," she teased, and we both laughed.
The worship team walked on stage. Mr. Heart was leading today—my favorite. He always had this energy that lifted everyone's spirit.
He started singing Yeshua, and soon, the whole church was praising.
The King of Kings. The Great I Am. The Alpha and Omega. The Waymaker. The Light in the darkness. My Shepherd. My Father. My everything.
Through the fires—He was there. Through my empty stomach—He was there, comforting me.
He's my everything worth having. Without Him, I'm nothing. When I think I can't make it, I remember He's a good God who never fails. His mercies endure forever.
Forever I will dwell at His feet. Forever I will worship the King of all.
He took me from dust and made me as strong as a diamond. He's not just God—He's my best friend. There's none like Him, and there never will be.
Even if the world forsakes me, He never will. I've seen Him perform miracles in my life. He loved me when I didn't deserve to be alive. He saved me from death and gave me a reason to live again.
No amount of words, no amount of praise, will ever be enough to thank Him for everything He's done—and all He will still do.
"Let's clap our hands for the Lord!" Mr. Heart said joyfully, and we all applauded.
Yes, I am not ashamed of the gospel, for it was God who set me free from my sins.
What about yesterday than. A voice in me uttered stirring guilt
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