Chapter 3: Reverend Sister
Those words crumbled Naomi’s spirit. Tears welled in her eyes as she saw Anna smile, exchanging knowing glances with their mother before both turned their attention to her. The sight deepened Naomi’s despair, and she could no longer hold back the flood of tears that began to fall uncontrollably down her cheeks. The tension in the car felt palpable, thick with unspoken words. Finally, her father broke the silence.
"Next time, think before you speak," he admonished, leaving Naomi confused about where his loyalties lay. Her father was notoriously fickle, swinging between pity for her and support for her mother’s harshness. It was a pattern she had grown accustomed to, but it never ceased to hurt. Right now, as she sat there in agony, she couldn’t help but cry, the tears mingling with the turmoil in her heart.
The haunting memory of a day she’d rather forget loomed in her mind—the day she lost her virginity. It was shrouded in confusion; she couldn’t recall anything except waking up the next morning to find blood on her bed, a stark reminder of something that had felt so surreal. Her parents had left for the day, and it had been just her and Anna taking care of the house. But that morning, with the evidence before her, she had been gripped by fear and uncertainty. When her mother returned home and had tested both her and Anna, the truth came out—Naomi was no longer a virgin.
Naomi reaction had been devastating; it felt like a huge blow, amplifying her insecurities and fueling her anger. Naomi could still remember the look on Parents face—betrayal mixed with indignation.
Closing her eyes tightly, Naomi desperately tried to push the painful memories away. She didn’t want to relive that day, nor did she want to think about the stranger she had encountered earlier. What if he had jumped? The thought sent a chill down her spine. But now, all she could do was focus on herself and the impending doom of the reverend school her mother had threatened.
As she sighed deeply, inhaling and exhaling loudly, it seemed her fate was sealed. Maybe it was indeed better to go to reverend school.
As if it wasn’t already enough, Anna chimed in again, adding more salt to the fresh wounds that had barely begun to heal. "What were you saying?" she asked mockingly, her tone dripping with sarcasm.
"Cat cut your tongue?" The words hung in the air like a taunt, as if they were the most hilarious joke in the world. Soon, Anna burst into laughter, a sound that cut through Naomi like a knife, accompanied by their mother’s delighted cackles. It felt as though they were in a cruel play, with Naomi cast as the unwilling protagonist.
Turning her gaze out the window, Naomi sought refuge in the passing scenery, trying to block out the torment that surrounded her. Normally, she would have plugged into some soothing slow songs to transport her mind to a different world, but today was different. With no phone to distract her—Anna had claimed it, knowing that if Naomi tried to take it back, it would only escalate the situation—she felt trapped, confined to the car with her tormentors.
The pain in her swollen cheeks throbbed with each passing moment, a physical reminder of the emotional pain swirling inside her. All she wanted was for the car to stop. The journey seemed interminable, each mile stretching out like an eternity, weighed down by the oppressive atmosphere.
Just as she thought the silence might provide a momentary reprieve, her father’s phone rang, piercing through the tension like a gunshot. He answered it, his tone shifting to one of formality. "Hello, sir. Yes," he replied, his voice steady. "Yes, sir. We’ll do that, sir. Thank you very much, sir." Naomi raised an eyebrow in surprise; hearing her father repeat "sir" so many times was unusual. He was a man of pride, one who rarely lowered himself to such formalities.
After ending the call, he returned the phone to its resting place and refocused on the road, but the weight of the conversation hung heavily in the air.