You're on your own, kid
When I was 5, my father punished me for crying in Church. He said I was disrespectful towards God.
But who was God, anyway?
When I was 11, I believed God would be the one because of whom I was loved. And yes, I was.
My parents loved me for being quiet in church, for covering my head, reading the scriptures and praying everyday.
Once before I stepped out of bed and once before I stepped in.
When I was 13, I realised that God loved me sure, but it was human love that I craved. A parent's kind words of approval. Instead I heard,
"oh but she prays harder than you do. Maybe you should do it too."
So, at 14, I was praying as hard as I could have, my knees buring holes in the ground. So now when I stand up, you can still hear them crack.
At 15, even before I could open my eyes and pray before stepping out of bed, my world had collapsed on its own. One would say it happened because my closed eyes in front of God had made me blind. Why wasn't I protected when all I did was pray. To which I say,
"but God looks after me."
And then someone screams
"only as long as you are looking after yourself."














