That was a side of my father I had never seen before. I glanced at my father who had thrown himself on my mother, and sister, his face filled with fear. The thing was, no one was safe, no matter how much they wanted to be.
People screaming, running, and ducking for cover. “This is for you Jesus! These people will suffer just like you had to for them! Your life for theirs, and their lives for yours!” What he said next sent chills down my spine. His voice was heavy, scary and memorable. Just as my father got up and forced us to stand up too, a man yelled. Fathers picked those other children up, and pushed their entire family out of those big wooden doors that kept us all in. They all started to leave, mothers dragged their children up out of their seats, causing them to drop their Sippy cups and church books. But the people in the back of the church caught my eye before I could look up. I saw my father turn around and look up to where the noises were coming from, and so I did too. My mother must have saw it too, because she grabbed my fathers leg, and put her arm around my little sister.
His grey hairs seemed to turn whiter as the seconds went by. Who was up there, and why? I looked up at the Pastor, who stood frozen. But that was a home matter.Įveryone was confused what the loud clicking noises were, since no one was allowed in the balcony anymore after some kids in my Catechism class started one of the pews on fire. If my sister was in tears because of me, so was I. There was only one other time I accidentally hit her. As I ran over to her to apologize she ran away from me and went bawling to my parents. I must have hit her and bruised her clear, pale face. My hand hit something hard, but I was too into the game to notice. One of the neighbor kids was “it” and almost got me, but I ungracefully got away by flailing my arms.
I guess I was so caught up in the game that it didn’t really matter to me. I ran around like a chicken with my head cut off while being chased, not watching where I was going. When we got to church my parents were greeted by some neighbors, and my sister and I found some neighbor kids to play with before we had to go inside. Something definitely felt different about that morning. But when I walked outside to the car, the wind didn’t ruffle my golden hair, the air felt more stiff, the sun didn’t shine as bright, and the bird’s songs didn’t sound as pretty. The day started like any other Sunday, we woke up and went to church.
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