I Said No

Chapter fifteen

I am walking into my church for a Wednesday night service. I needed to see if God would make me feel better, even for a second, I wanted to feel whole. I wanted to not feel scared of myself and this is the only place I could think of. The church is in a community center, and it's relatively new. But is has been consistently growing. They used to meet in the pastor's apartment living room, and have been upgrading every so often with the volume of their church comers.

I walk up the stairs. It's dark outside already. I intentionally arrived here a few minutes late so I wouldn't have to speak to anyone. I wouldn't get any questions from my fellow youth group leaders wondering why I haven't need to youth group. Or maybe Estaphan told them and they will give me dirty looks once I walk in. Maybe this wasn't a good idea.

I walk through the halls and come to the doors where service starts, they're closed. I stand there, staring at them, and wonder if I am worthy enough to walk through them. Would God still want me?

"Here you go Emily," an acquaintance says and opens the door for me. I can't even remember his name, but there's no going back. He has opened the door for me.

"Thank you," I quietly say, with a slight smile. I walk through the threshold and am welcomed in by the worship team. They are singing one of my favorite worship songs, Blessed be your name. I find a seat to the back and am immediately lost in the music. I stand up and put my arms up in praise and I worship.

'And blessed be Your name
When I'm found in the desert place
Though I walk through the wilderness
Blessed be Your name
Every blessing You pour out
I'll turn back to praise
When the darkness closes in, Lord
Still I will say
Blessed be the name of the Lord
Blessed be Your name.'

This worship song is perfect. 'When the darkness closes in, Lord still I will stay.' I want to stay. I want to feel. The pastor talks about a current event, but I begin to zone out. I begin to pray, "Lord, I need your help." I say that over and over again. It's all that I can muster up to say. It's all I can say. "Lord, I need your help. I need your help." I feel my tears begin again, but still I continue, "I need help. Help me, Lord, help me."

I have sinned before. Everyone sins though, right? I had sex with Kyle. But I always made myself feel right about it because I told myself we would get married and all would be well. We were in love. I never was a heavy drinker. I just recently started experimenting with it. It's part of the college experience right? And I'm hurting. Drinking has helped numb the pain, even if it's just a temporary numb.

The church service is already over. I don't think I listened to any of the message. People are starting to pack up and getting ready to leave. I look up at the pastor. He looks worried. Deep wrinkles in his forehead, a frown on his face. He is tall, slender, and wears his white blonde hair straight up with lots of gel. He has extremely fair skin, large daunting eyes, and always dresses in designer clothing.

"I have something speaking on my heart," he says to the rest of the crowd preparing to leave, "if you were ever forced to do something you didn't want to do, that is rape. You need to call someone, tell the police, get tested. It will be ok. It's not your fault. Sorry church, it has been weighing on my heart all service and I needed to say it." And then he releases a sigh of relief and is back to smiling.

That was to me.

Had God spoken to the pastor? Was it Estaphan speaking to yet another person?

I get up and try to walk as quickly as I can to get out of there. I don't want to make eye contact with anyone. The flow of my tears has escalated to embarrassing quantities. They are streaming down my face again and I do not want anyone to see.

I am almost to the parking lot.

"Emily! Wait! Emily!" I hear yelling behind me. I stop and turn around to see who is screaming my name. It's Jocelyn. She looks hurt. I can see the pain in her eyes. She's taller than I and built like an athlete. She has thick curly hair and sharp facial features. She's not wearing any makeup tonight and is only wearing yoga pants and a sweatshirt, a messy bun on top of her head.

I don't say anything back to her and wait for her to walk towards me.

"Are you mad at me?" She asks again with a quiver in her voice. She's hurting. I've hurt my friend, one of my best friends. What is wrong with me? Why did I choose isolation? Why have I locked everyone out of my life?

But this is what feels right. I don't want people around me as I come crashing down. I don't want people to see this. This mess I have created. This mess he created.

"No, I'm not mad, I was raped." I reply in an oddly calm manner. I need to be calm. I need to get back to my car. I need to go back home. Back to my safe spot. I need to get the hell away from here—from anyone.

"What, no. I'm sorry. I could have helped! I thought you were one of my best friends!" She yells as she holds her mouth and runs to her car. I see tears making their way down her face.

"I'm sorry," I whisper back.

***Author's note***

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