~Bad Dreams~

Comfy Bed, Church, and Conversation.

        Four years later here I am; 16 getting my own car and having the dream life. I jumped out of my comfy matress with three bed sheets on it; I hate the winter and was freezing twenty four seven if it wasn't at least 70 degrees outside. I pushed them off of me and stretched across my bed yawning; I got up and looked at my reflection; I laughed at my matted, tangled, curly mess of hair and got to work with a hair brush. About fife teen minutes later I sighed in defeat and threw the hairbrush back into the cab net with my hair still looking like a mess. Opening my closet I picked the simplest outfit I could possibly find without being cold; a black sweater, ripped jeans, converse and a turquoise infinity scarf. I walked into my bathroom to see my hair had calmed itself a little but it was still really curly and a total mess but it was like that everyday; ask anyone who knows me; I unzipped my makeup pouch and put on a good amount of mascara and some glittery peach eye shadow along with some nude lipstick. Spraying hairspray on my hair I once again tried to brush it down enough to look somewhat okay, and once I was halfway satisfied I walked down the carpet stained stairs. Memories flashed through my mind of me chasing my brother with my beheaded barbie dolls yelling "I am gonna get you for this!" I smiled and shook my head, it had been two and a half years since my brother died; me and my parents were working through it together but we were still grieving. We were going to be okay though I just knew it, "Ow!" I yelped not realizing myself chewing my inner cheek, a bad habit I couldn't break. It all started after Daniel died, my doctor said it was a nervous reflex or even stress could be the cause. I just thought it was something to do to punish myself for not getting Daniel away from that car. I sighed and repeated in my head a lie I did so often I was beginning to believe it "There was nothing you could do Cianna, it's not your fault." I clenched my teeth, I hated the taste of blood. I walked into the kitchen seeing my father reading the newspaper from last week again and mom baking something. Their usual Sunday routine "Why don't you read today's paper?" I questioned my dad as I did most Sundays "I need to save that one for next week" he replied as he normally did. Mom looked up from icing her cake "Why are you all dressed up? It's the weekend." I looked at her cake; it truly was beautiful, she was an amazing baker as well as decorator. "My friend he invited me to his church and I really want to go so I would appreciate your support." My dad looked up from his paper and exchanged a look with my mom, a little too suspisious but I didn't pay it any mind since all I wanted was them to say okay or just a simple nod would've been fine. "A little attitude has been developed overnight hasn't it, Cianna?" Dad questioned harshly "Yes, a nicer tone would've been better, babe." Mom added. I grimiced, why can't they understand I just want to go to church like a normal family, I was kind of implying that they come with me. I guess that isn't even a possibility to them; "Yes I am sorry I just was kind of hoping not to argue about this, I really would love to go." Mom nodded then and asked "What religion," I tasted blood in my mouth again, maybe it really was an anxious thing. "Christian; and its actually called The Vine Church. It's small and local and I really, really want to visit. It's methodist and fun music and I just think it's the right church, Mom; please...?" I gulped as she went on "Hun, I just I don't think you'll like it there. You need to understand I am just trying to help and I want the best for you. I think you shall stay here this Sunday maybe next time." That made me mad "No, Mom! You know whats best for me? I don't think so, next Sunday is going to roll around and your going to say the exact same thing. I want to go, thats all I ask. Is for your blessing to go, speaking of blessing have you ever bothered to say one? You know some people say it before every meal, Muslims pray five times a day! Can you believe that, you know nothing about this and have no right to tell me I can't go if you've never even stepped foot inside a church." I screamed, Mom was about to cry I could tell by the glassy look her blue eyes got after I started yelling. "I am going, whether you like it or not, and you atheists can sit here lying to yourself about this no after life thing but I have hoped, for a long time I could change that, apparently not." I softened my voice when I said that and continued "Mom, if you hate me for doing this, and Dad if you never let me back inside, then I guess I'll need some money and a bible from now on." Mom ran out of the room with tears streaming down her face and Dad got up and took one look at me with disgust "I can give you the money, but I can't purchase a bible." I clenched my teeth as fire flamed in his eyes and mine burned with tears, I take a deep breath and walk towards the door as he follows my mom. I shook my head and walked around for a while until I saw my friends car pull up in the driveway; maybe I should go back and apologize, just tell Andrew I can't go today maybe next time and he'll understand. I could run back inside and tell my parents I didn't mean a thing I said and go back to reading the bible and listening to The Newsboys in my room and at school in secret when they're not around. That sounds good,...right? I asked myself but knew in my heart I should do what was right for us; so I ran up the hill as fast as I could slung open the door and called out..."Hey Andrew." I smiled and sat in the front seat with him listening to The Fish on the radio, tuning him out most of the way. It felt good knowing that I could finally tell my parents the truth, well not all of it; but most of it anyways. I took a deep breath when we got there, it was smaller than I imagined but amazing on the inside, the smell of coffee brewing and hot chocolate was filling the whole room. Kids were running as fast as they could to get to their class, and I just stood there in the door like a kid lost in a candy store and embracing the feeling. "Cianna!" Andrew called after me and beconed me to a small table with a smiling lady standing behind it, she handed me a bible, mug filled with a pen, brochure, and all kinds of goodies. She also gave me a few mints and a free coffee on the house because it was my first time ever being in any kind of church. I smiled at her overwhelmed by everything and walked into the room where "church" actually happened. Andrew held my seat while I went to the bathroom and all the sudden I felt like I was going to cry; happy tears of course but it was an overwhelming sense of comfort and love, and I was amazed that I already felt like I knew this church like the back of my hand. Everyone was nice and shook my hand, some gave me a heartfelt hug and then thats when the announcements came on talking about the missionaries and the service they were doing that specific week. Then the music came on and I felt like I knew every word to every song they were playing; and not just because the words were up on the screen because I already felt connected to all this. Everything, and even God, I knew he was real from the time I got there to the time I left. Even though I knew I had to face my parents; I knew I did the right thing and I am glad I did it, and my parents were probably mad as heck right now but I didn't care because I had God right beside me. I smiled as we were driving home when he asked me how I liked it I didn't answer I just replied "Will you come pick me up next week?" He smiled that crooked happy smile and nodded his head "Yes, I will Cianna." When he pulled up into my driveway his face turned serious "How did your parents take this?" I smiled the best fake smile I could and shook my head "Not bad, but not good" I lied right through my own teeth to one of my best friends "I know your lying but I am not going to interferre because this is your battle and I trust you to fight it on your own. I am right here if you need me though." He smiled again as I hopped out of his Jeep Wrangler that was the bright orange I have always hated, but he completly loved. Waving I walked inside, watching him pull out of our steep driveway, I closed my eyes sensing the presence of someone, and I knew who; my dad. Maybe it's not the dream life after all. 

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