Before you start reading, please check out [Don't tell me about God](https://steemit.com/fiction/@zyzymena/don-t-talk-to-me-about-god)

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I woke up shouting and the nurses tried to hold me down. One was saying something incomprehensible and another was just shaking her head and fighting the tears in her eyes. My aunt rushed in at that moment, holding me down, she started weeping. I too soon joined.
 
The thoughts of what could have happened hitting me so hard. “Where are my parents? Where is John?” I kept asking amidst tears but no one had answers for me. “Calm down Christie, calm down please. For the sake of your health, please calm down” my aunty kept soothing me but funny enough she was crying way more than I was and that bothered me. My thoughts were turning on its own running from pillar to post of the possible things that could have happened. Are they in the hospital also? Well, somebody just have to give me an answer.

Mustering the last courage I had, I asked the dreaded question my mouth was feeling too heavy to utter.  “Aunt,” I started trembling, “Are my parents dead?” My aunt’s reaction said it all. I needed no soothsayer. Yes, my family was exterminated that night while God watched. I learnt my mother was also raped and my father forced to watch. My mother couldn’t bear them having their rounds on her so she broke one of the glass cups nearby and stabbed herself. My father was shot several and my brother’s shot was the one I heard when i was carried like a lamb to a slaughter. Now, why should I worship a being that can’t save? Was he watching? Is he happy such terrible ordeal befell me? 

“Christie! Don’t tell me you are still sleeping” my aunt’s husband, Uncle Emma called from outside my door. They had taken me home after the anguish. Of cos where else would I go? My own family was wiped out in one night. Aunt Mercy was my father’s only sister and I immediately became her responsibility. She’s been good to me and treated me right but no matter how right she treated me, it never changed my hatred for this being, a being that can’t save.

I stood up with a start and wiped my eyes. My wailing has reduced to sobbing and a few hiccups. I looked at the mirror and noticed my eyes were red and swollen. Uncle Emma would know I have been crying and the last thing I wanted was a sermon in my room besides they are a lovely couple and they have come to accept me as their own having been married for 12 years with no child of their own. 

“Uncle, I am awake, I want to have my bath then come meet you outside”, I replied. 

“Hurry up! You know today is Sunday and I don’t like going late. Your aunt has finished the whole chores this morning and you are still sleeping. Don’t be a lazy girl Christie”.

“Uncle I will be done in ten. I am sorry I overslept”, I lied and immediately ran into the bathroom. It was going to be another drama session. I can’t wait to go back to the university and live my life just the way I like it. 

***

That night changed everything. It took away my innocence and turned me into a bitch, perhaps a heartless one with no regard for humanity. Nothing matters to me, not even my life. I was brutally deflowered and well it awoke a hunger in me. The desire to will men to do my bidding with my body. It gives me joy, watching them beg at my feet, making promises they may never keep. It wasn’t about the material things; no, my Aunt made sure I never lacked. It was all about the power it gives me. Knowing that I can seduce the high and low, the righteous and the sinner, the strong and mighty even the insignificant. It became a lifestyle, flirt with them, get them to notice me, make them chase me and then give up the cookie all easily and then block them and cut them off totally.

Funny enough, some come back looking for me. There perhaps must be something about my vagina. I have never been one to use a vagina sweetener, I’m not a believer in God neither am I fetish. I don’t subscribe to those things. I have discovered something much more potent and that is the power of seduction. I hear the side talks in my hostel. I see how they look at me with disgust each time a car pulls up in the hostel and I walk out, all dressed up looking so sexy. I hear the ladies talk about how many diseases I may have caught and so many postulations as to why I do what I do. Who cares? Life doesn’t give you too many choices when it hits you hard, you can as well decide what you want to make out of it. This is my own way of rebelling against God. I couldn’t commit suicide. I tried a few times but I just couldn’t pull through. Call me chicken hearted, but if I must live, then live I must doing whatever pleases me.

I have always been a brilliant student. I aced my high school exams and got admitted into one of the prestigious universities to study medicine before the tragedy happened. It took a lot of counseling to get me to even consider pursuing my dreams of being a doctor. Don’t think I joke with my studies, no. since I decided to accept it, I never missed any lecture and I always find time to study. The lecturers I have slept with are not because I wanted grades, no. Remember, sleeping with men is a vocation I have chosen and I love it.

***
I came out all dressed in a long black skirt and a turtle neck white body hug. Aunt and uncle were tired from waiting for me as evident on their faces.

“Finally! I was already telling your aunt I will go break down that door if you don’t come out.” My uncle teased. I know he loves me too much to say anything that will hurt me. His speaking first was to prevent my aunty from throwing tantrums.

“I am sorry. I didn’t intend to delay so much” I apologized turning my mouth into a pout with both hands pulling my ear lobes gently just to show how sorry I was. 

“Isn’t this top too tight?” my aunty queried examining me carefully and making me do a 360 degrees, tugging at the top and shaking her head.

“You should be happy she is wearing a long skirt today”, my uncle replied ushering himself into the car and starting the ignition as a way of informing us he was about to leave without us. My aunt still with the disapproving  look on her face got into the vehicle and I followed suit making myself comfortable at the back of the White Prada Jeep, their latest addition to the fleet they have.

There is only one reason why I didn’t rebel this morning about going to church. I was going to see Chris, the young pastor who has just been posted to our branch.

***To be continued***