All of ‘his’ followers told me I was slanderous for questioning the work “he’s” done for us. They always told me I’d see the light one day, and, I did in fact see it.
But, this was 25 years ago when I was taken out of my peaceful and warm obscurity and brought into the “light”.
I was folded in blankets of darkness; safe and at ease. But then came the violence; a heavenly shine that made me scream and cry. The light was the slave-trader and I, a captor to be sold. When pulled out into the brightness, I heard sounds that curled my blood; I didn’t know what they meant. My eyes shuttered in panic as strange objects and moving figures prodded me.
I had everything I ever wanted until I was forced to follow the light.
However, it wasn’t heaven. It was the light called life.
It started with the agonizing sounds of my mother, the strange people wearing gloves and masks. It was the amniotic fluid, the cut of the umbilical cord, the new environment, the confusion, it was my fear, it was life.
If God existed, it was my mother when I was a fetus. Heaven was her womb. Hell was the outside.
The devil, life.
Currently, we are all in the afterlife since we are before death. But if we die and we still have another life to live, isn’t that our birth instead? If so, I guess the eviction from my mother’s womb was really the day I died.
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