MY MUM'S PASTOR DOES SPECIAL PRAYERS FOR ME — HE SAID HIS MANH00D IS ANOINTED
Episode 8
In the dimly lit corner of her room, Deborah sat cross-legged on the floor, clutching a battered diary. It had been her secret companion, the only place she could pour out her anguish.
She flipped through its pages, her eyes scanning the words she had written over the months: I trusted him.
Why would God allow this to happen? No one believes me. Even Mama thinks I'm lying. How long will this go on? I can't take it anymore.
Tears blurred her vision as she gripped the pen tightly, her hand trembling as she scribbled: To anyone who finds this, I want you to know the truth. Daddy Possibilities is not who he claims to be. He's hu--rt me more than I can bear, and I can't live like this anymore.
Her sobs filled the quiet room as she closed the diary and set it aside. She reached under her bed and pulled out a small bottle of pills she had taken from her mother's cabinet.
With shaky hands, she unscrewed the cap, poured the contents into her palm, and stared at them for a moment.
"This is the only way," she whispered to herself, swallowing the pills in one swift motion. She lay back on her bed, clutching the diary to her chest as her tears slowly dried. Within minutes, her breathing grew shallow, and her eyes closed.
It wasn't until evening that Mrs. Rachel noticed something was amiss. Deborah had not come out of her room for dinner, and the house felt unusually quiet.
At first, she assumed her daughter was sulking, as she often did when they argued about church matters.
"Deborah!" Rachel called, knocking on the door. "Come and eat! You can't stay in there all day!"
When there was no response, her heart began to race. She pushed the door open and froze at the sight before her.
Deborah lay motionless on the bed, her face pale and her hands clutching the diary tightly. The empty pill bottle lay discarded on the floor.
"No, no, no, no!" Rachel screamed, rushing to her daughter's side. She shook her, hoping against hope that she would wake up. "Deborah, wake up! Please, baby, wake up!" But Deborah didn't stir.
Rachel's hands trembled as she reached for the diary. She opened it and began reading, her eyes widening with each word. Her breath caught in her throat as the full weight of the truth crashed down on her. Daddy Possibilities. The prayers. The office visits. The warnings to stay silent.
Rachel let out a guttural cry, her hands covering her mouth. "How could I have been so blind?" she whispered, tears streaming down her face. "My own daughter... I didn't listen. I failed her."
Her anguish turned into despair. The diary contained the damning truth, but what could she do with it? Who would believe her? Daddy Possibilities was revered by everyone, including herself. "If I tell anyone, they'll say I'm lying," she muttered to herself. "They'll say Deborah hated the church and made all this up. They'll call me a bitter woman trying to destroy a man of God."
Her mind raced with conflicting thoughts. On one hand, she wanted justice for Deborah. On the other, she feared the backlash and the shame it would bring upon her family.
She clutched Deborah's lifeless body, rocking back and forth as sobs racked her frame. "I'm so sorry, my child. I should have listened. I should have protected you."
The END.
PLEASE READ ALL EPISODES OF THIS STORY ON Vicky's Stories And on my WhatsApp channel. #everyone #highlights
Episode 8
In the dimly lit corner of her room, Deborah sat cross-legged on the floor, clutching a battered diary. It had been her secret companion, the only place she could pour out her anguish.
She flipped through its pages, her eyes scanning the words she had written over the months: I trusted him.
Why would God allow this to happen? No one believes me. Even Mama thinks I'm lying. How long will this go on? I can't take it anymore.
Tears blurred her vision as she gripped the pen tightly, her hand trembling as she scribbled: To anyone who finds this, I want you to know the truth. Daddy Possibilities is not who he claims to be. He's hu--rt me more than I can bear, and I can't live like this anymore.
Her sobs filled the quiet room as she closed the diary and set it aside. She reached under her bed and pulled out a small bottle of pills she had taken from her mother's cabinet.
With shaky hands, she unscrewed the cap, poured the contents into her palm, and stared at them for a moment.
"This is the only way," she whispered to herself, swallowing the pills in one swift motion. She lay back on her bed, clutching the diary to her chest as her tears slowly dried. Within minutes, her breathing grew shallow, and her eyes closed.
It wasn't until evening that Mrs. Rachel noticed something was amiss. Deborah had not come out of her room for dinner, and the house felt unusually quiet.
At first, she assumed her daughter was sulking, as she often did when they argued about church matters.
"Deborah!" Rachel called, knocking on the door. "Come and eat! You can't stay in there all day!"
When there was no response, her heart began to race. She pushed the door open and froze at the sight before her.
Deborah lay motionless on the bed, her face pale and her hands clutching the diary tightly. The empty pill bottle lay discarded on the floor.
"No, no, no, no!" Rachel screamed, rushing to her daughter's side. She shook her, hoping against hope that she would wake up. "Deborah, wake up! Please, baby, wake up!" But Deborah didn't stir.
Rachel's hands trembled as she reached for the diary. She opened it and began reading, her eyes widening with each word. Her breath caught in her throat as the full weight of the truth crashed down on her. Daddy Possibilities. The prayers. The office visits. The warnings to stay silent.
Rachel let out a guttural cry, her hands covering her mouth. "How could I have been so blind?" she whispered, tears streaming down her face. "My own daughter... I didn't listen. I failed her."
Her anguish turned into despair. The diary contained the damning truth, but what could she do with it? Who would believe her? Daddy Possibilities was revered by everyone, including herself. "If I tell anyone, they'll say I'm lying," she muttered to herself. "They'll say Deborah hated the church and made all this up. They'll call me a bitter woman trying to destroy a man of God."
Her mind raced with conflicting thoughts. On one hand, she wanted justice for Deborah. On the other, she feared the backlash and the shame it would bring upon her family.
She clutched Deborah's lifeless body, rocking back and forth as sobs racked her frame. "I'm so sorry, my child. I should have listened. I should have protected you."
The END.
PLEASE READ ALL EPISODES OF THIS STORY ON Vicky's Stories And on my WhatsApp channel. #everyone #highlights
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