Tempting Faith

Not fully asleep, first feeling the vibrations of her phone, followed almost immediately by a peaceful piano melody followed by an electric guitar and then the lyrics, “I feel this is the beginning, the beginning through…”

Sliding her thumb over the screen to shut off her alarm, she knows if it rouses any of her family, especially this early, they will judge her on her what they consider to be a band filled with sinful swill, the band she has come to love. She finds herself daydreaming about a collaboration between her violin and the awesome female on vocals, knowing it’s all a dream she pays it little mind so early. A slight flicker illuminates the dark void that is her room, she opens her phone to see that she has messages that need to be read. Sighing rolls over and ponders if she should check those messages, dreading what’s most likely on there, more hate as people seem to have turned on her and her family. With the faint early morning light she forces herself up and changes out of her pajamas and to be ready for the day.

Again she hears the judgment all seem to have on how she’s changed, not willing to put together a new set of clothes, she picks up things dangling from the chair that sits by her desk from the day prior. First the tight fitted blue denim jeans, then her white t-shirt she’d made that reads over the bust of the shirt, “J8.7,” and below, “Live with Sin, yet the stone has been cast.”

She’s up too early hating that she’s not getting enough sleep, and also hating the terms of being grounded with no computer, the tower yet remains in her room but lacking in the way of a monitor. She does find rest in her computer chair, sitting down, school is a few hours off, or is it the weekend? With that thought her phone vibrates again but not to wake her from slumber, another message, maybe an e-mail? She sits back and finds no comfort with what hides in her vest, not wanting to think of that she instead finds a seat in her bed to satiate her curiosity of what the message might be, so she powers on her phone.

The first message to be read is as to be expected , “Hey, I saw you trying to front that you’re cool at the party. NO,” delete, next, “Too bad you were raised in a Christian home, would have done everyone a favor if they had the choice to abort that mission would’ve saved you the pain!”

The next was a breath of fresh air, “Katie, got your message, we’ll see about changing your number when I get home, I will be home soon and we’ll talk then. Okay, love. Pop.”

Scrolling down she finds another message, “Katie, dad again, I have a surprise for you, which I do hope will help a bit with what we’re going through.”

Yeah right, empty promises, both he and mom hate the change that’s happened, but her violin catches her eye, old but she still found peace in it, but no longer. The violin lay broken a victim to the mess in her life, she should throw the piece of garbage where it belongs. Taking her focus off the violin she reads the final message, “Kate! Haven’t heard from you in a while, meet for tea?”

She contemplates a reply but looks toward her vest still on her computer chair, rocking the logo of her favourite band, that her parents love to hate all they think the band has to stand for and judge the text on the bottom rocker as it reads, “BLOOD LEGION,” in large embroidered white text, and above that, a Black Widow Spider.

Instead of thinking of what lies in it’s pocket instead she thinks of what got her to this point, bullying from those she considered friends and fellow church goers. Not only is she facing this problem but her entire household is now shunned away from those within that congregation, all because of a difference in showing faith. The Marsh family chose to forfeit and seemingly give up, and refuse to hear any problems she brought up to them like the fact that she’d been outed from all of her former Christian peers and the anyone else around didn’t like her to begin with.

It’s almost impossible to deal with now as she has hate from all sides, and no support once had from both her family and friends. They’ve both turned on each other and now a void of animosity lay between she and all who she’d put trust in and now it’s just an ugly thing to hold on to. She’s become a masochist but letting the pain in emotionally which she reflects with her new look and allowing herself to become more of an introvert.

Hating the way she feels, she whispers a prayer, “God…I’m feeling…well…you know. I need some help, I’m alone, everyone hate’s me, and I’m starting to hate me too!”

Kate’s eyes start to tighten in the moment, her throat she feels a pressure, breath becomes a light broken audible bleat of sadness but no tears escape her but she does have to rub away some that tried to run down her face. Gathering herself, and she feels a little better, but like the tears she wiped away so too will her feeling of peace be taken away by the judgment, the anger, the pity to come.

Those feelings of solace are an illusion, baiting her into a false peace to replaced with more pain but she won’t allow herself to fall again as she could see no bottom to this descent. She gets the wrong attention, negative attention, and she wants to reserve her will to have no intention of letting this get more out of hand. She finds herself content in her resentment of all who are now bitter the Marsh name but also in need to find strength and a balance to her weakness.

Still holding onto her phone, she smiles reading the text about having tea again, but why mend things that are bound to break, like everyone else she’ll probably take everything she has, though it’s not much to left up for grabs. Anything she does get her hand on will cost her all she has, because all that’s left is honesty and the hate she feels for them all. Again her feelings are fleeting, the anger gone, but it’s all a disgusting feeling, it’s all pain and with no end in sight to this fall Kate begins to feel a fear set in.

The air becoming heavy, a slight pain can be felt on the back of her neck and shoulders as she becomes tense. All of the conflicting feeling begin to flood her head, and her only reaction she has is to give in and allow her sorrow to take over.

“They want to see you shatter, you’re broken now anyway, they can pick up the pieces.” Kate has an inner dialogue for herself to contemplate.

Kate sits with her face buried in her palm rocking up and down, accepting defeat.

“No!”

Unable to cope with her self pity she sits up, done with the anger, the sadness, and the pain. Storming to her vest her claim what’s hiding in it’s pocket she produces her father’s strait razor. Everything that used to matter, she loosens her grip, trying to let go of all that bring her the sorrow that plague her heart.

First setting the razor on the table she quietly sits in her chair as to not risk rousing any of her family in this early hour. She grabs a pen and a notepad and that rest upon a letter addressed to her, still sealed from Blackwell Academy, paying it no mind she opens the notebook to write a letter of her own for her parents to find in due time.

“Mom, pop, my dear sisters,” Stopping her pen she thinks of how stupid it is to even think about to writing this.

“I don’t want you to hurt, but I know I’m a stain in your lives and no one likes what I’ve become, not even me! You’ve seen my change, I don’t know what these last words are worth,” pushing the notebook aside, Kate begins to fidget with her pen.

Lightly tapping the pen on the notepad, she thinks it best to throw out the note, it’s a stupid thought, she can even hear her mother say how stupid a thought it is, but any problem she’s ever brought to her mother is more often met with a slight bit of anger. Next time the pain will be just as difficult, the question then arose, could she handle it again and it’s a question filled with doubt. Again the emotional roller coaster goes on, but it’s making her fed up, sick and tired.

People worry, but it seems to only to get closer to inflict more pain, judgment, and so it’s impossible to find trust in any who show concern. Kate’s mother is often redirecting all the hurt she feels to Kate, as seems to be the case with the entire Marsh family. Kate hates that she finds a form of solace in her pain, maybe she’s not ready to let people in who can change her, it’s actually terrifying to think that all the pain she holds inside might be taken away. No one seems ready to let her take the time she needs to deal with her demons, but add to the negative weight she is already burdened with.

She grasps the pen again, and begins to let it glide once more over the page for her closing words to her family.

“I wanted to turn this all around, ME! Sorry sinning again with my pride, I’m sorry but the corrupted path has an end, an end is what I want. I love you, Kate.”

Gently ripping the note from the book she folds the parchment and places it in her back pocket, as she thinks it easier to find. Calming her breathing and wiping the tears from her face she eyes the razor, contemplating her choice to use it or not. She’s read a strait razor is a decent way to do it, less pain, and quicker to bleed out. Now with razor in hand and a mind conflicted with indecision in her options she has. Opening the blade, ready to make the incision meant to steal her life away.

“No, no, no,” disgusted with herself she has such sin on her mind.

Instead she casts her father’s razor into the garbage, and as the blade finds the bottom of the basket, her door opens.

Her father quietly sneaks in, “Oh you’re awake,” he says with a smile that fades away when he can see that tortured face of his daughter.

Placing a new violin case on the floor he rushes forth to embrace his daughter in a hold he now wishes he’d been there to share a long time ago. He holds his tongue as he nearly asks a daft question as to what’s wrong. Kate finally feeling a freedom to cry out, and release her pain pushes all her weight into her father trusting his hold.

“Katie,” struggling to get the say her name and not join his daughter in sobbing, but showing her some strength she can rely on there and now.

With no words Kate continues to ball in her father’s arms, but he let’s her weight push him backward as he takes a knee to look in her face. “I’m sorry, let’s go for a drive, we’ll talk,” he says not wanting to wake the family.

Richard produces a small box from his pocket, opening it up to reveal to Kate a new gold necklace with a crucifix adorning it. With no resoponse from Kate, only a blank stare, he takes it upon himself to put to necklace around her neck.

Again they embrace in a hug to which he says again, “I’m sorry.”

The two rise and he clasps her hand, to not break their bond they share right now. To himself and to God he swears to never let his Katie to feel this alone ever again and to be there for her when she needs it. The two hand in hand walk downstairs and Kate still feels hints of her pain even now, but maybe she’s found some support she can rely on. She does feel the love her father is now ready to give and what love she can finally allow herself to Receive.

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