Facing and Fighting Your Demons

Wow.

Look at her go as she puts on a stellar performance as God’s chosen one to lead His People into the Promised Land.

I feel hot all over, and it’s not because there’s no air conditioning.

The yelling from spirit-filled congregants and the music being played by the choir is banging against my head, making me feel dizzy. I’m beginning to get soaked in my own sweat. I try to utter a sound, but my voice won’t come out.

The flashbacks are flooding in between the spaces of the loud bangs. I see her, coming for me when I’m alone with her. Mama won’t believe me when I tell her what she does while under her care. Mama keeps beating me with the Bible and calling the other church ladies until I come right.

Oh my word… what’s happening to me?

I can’t breathe.

I can’t see properly.

Something is taking over me.

The music gets louder but fuzzier while I feel myself crushing my jaws and growling like a lion. I can’t stop “the something” from taking over… And I don’t want to.

I march towards the pulpit, and some congregants start screaming as I shove them out of my way. I charge towards her with something in my hand… Something sharp… Something that’s ready to strike and put an end to her.

But I was ambushed, and they jumped on top of me, pinning my arms to the floor. “We caught it”, they yell to her. She then walks carefully towards me while announcing to the congregants that they were about to see God in action.

“Who are you?” she asked sternly.

“You know me very well”, I answered in a snarly voice, battling to speak.

“What do you want here?” she asked, trying to calm her anger.

I keep quiet. It feels as though a lump is stuck in my throat as our eyes meet.

Before I know it, I scream and push everyone pinning me down off of me. A scuffle ensues, and I attempt to charge at her again, but they catch me. Bigger, stronger men hold my arms behind me so tightly that it hurts.

She stands in front of me, reaching her hand out to me and yells, “Come out!”

I just look at her with raging eyes.

She yells some more, pushing my head with her hand. The strong men move me around in the direction of her pushes. This continues for a while before she decides to blow air in my face. All the pushing causes me to lose my balance and fall down as if I were caught by the Holy Spirit.

“I told you not to tell anyone,” she whispered to me while I was on the floor. “You are now known as the demon-possessed girl”, she grinned.

I started to cry.

The congregants start applauding because they think that I’m healed from evil, but in actual fact, they’re applauding a fraud.

How do I tell everyone, including my family, that I’m not demon possessed, but rather a victim of sexual abuse at the hands of a woman who is highly revered in the religious community?

No one wants to believe me…

*image from Creative Commons.

*Dailypost WordPress.

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