ITS MY WORLD

"Auntie Sonia, on our way to the chapel see ya later"

My brother's child Louise said and I only nodded. I couldn't but help compare myself to a little kid so devoted to religion and there I was so stagnant and firm, rather unresolved about life's choices and religion. She came back again as usual and I knew the next pop-up question. She was fond of this since the past five years after the year of her birth. I gave her different answers each time she asked this question but this time, I'd rather reminisce.

"Aunty, my church is so interesting why won't you come along?"

I was used to this but It struck me that I was not getting younger.

I grew up in a catholic home. Parents, so devoted I was the only girl of two boys (ken and John). You see, our parents were so busy over every other aspect of our lives save religion. They believed the sole aim of our existence was religious therefore they made sure we were active in every religious activity. They didn't really care about our education they just wanted us to become responsible and educated citizens whatever way we wished to achieve it.

Growing up, I was alone, an introvert who believed so much in her desires. My imaginations took the greater part of me.

They were abominable thoughts and I dared not share. I had no sister to talk me on the ways of life, nor an elderly one to chastise me, I only grew in a way I felt fit..... yeah, we are so many!

Sunday mornings in the chapel, the sermon was progressive outside my head but inside, was a whole new world of my own. A world full of carnality and desires.

He looked me in the eyes.

. "Was he referring to me? Did he carve his hairs and brows on purpose? "

He's dark deep eyes shone crystal clear and he had the most beautifully carved lips I had ever seen.

His voice sounded music to my ears, not the sermon. I could go to the chapel, seminaries, sweep them all up countless times just to behold his addictive presence. His unbuttoned cassock slightly revealing his open clergy shirt which only I could view his spot free chest and curvy hairs.

It always made me wonder if he did them on purpose.... purpose or not I loved admiring his little misdeeds.

Weekends from school, I sneaked in evenings to catch my usual glimpse in rehearsals. Nobody dared see me unless I would be in trouble, rather still excommunicated (if my presence wasn't for a definite reason).

I watched him searching diligently scriptures and topics to teach, so young and handsome yet so devoted. I could hear his voice loud and clear in my dreams, Oftentimes we spoke but I dared not speak to him physically (even if I was dying to).

I was scared of what the outcome would be and what everyone would think of me. Feared being possessed by a psychopathic evil spirit. I let no one in my room, scared of anyone sighting my paintings of him.

During the rehearsals of readers and choir, with the male servants and sisters, he was so patient with our misbehavior sand corrected us calmly like it was normal. Oftentimes our eyes met but I was just a little girl and he was..."REVEREND DUKE"

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