I had a dreamless sleep or I didn't remember the dream. It didn't matter whatsoever. My body ached from the beatings we received.

The other girl was untied. I looked at myself and found that I was also free.

"What happened?" Those were the first words I ever said to this girl.

"Our redeemer." Her tiny voice came.

Is that even a reasonable answer?

"I am pregnant." She declared. "I am pregnant."

So?

"So?" I asked irritably.

"Sister, you are pained. What's up?"

"Hmmmph. As if you'd understand." I mumbled.

"Just tell me. I would. I am twenty five."

My eyes widened.

She looked like a tiny sixteen year old.

Really?

"Why did you have to tell me your age?"

"I don't know. What's up with you? You can tell me. I am twenty five and I've gone through a lot."

A lot?

"It can't be compared to my situation."

I moved closer to her to hear whatever she wanted to say.

"It could be worse. It is actually."

"How would you know?"

"See. I was born to a careless family who dropped three-year old me on the road. I grew up with a family as their maid. When I was fourteen, I was accused of stealing the mother's jewelry. It wasn't a false accusation because I actually stole it. Then, sold it. Then, ran away. Being fourteen is probably when those youthful rushes start. Probably. "

"So? So how does this relate to me?"

"All I could do was sell my blood for money. I continued until I was about to die. Hungry, dirty, homeless, familyless, injured, emotionally hurt but then, at the right moment, at that moment of suicide, something happened."

Suspense..........

"What happened?" I asked, annoyed at the suspense.

"Then, the Lord.....visited me."

I clapped. I gave her a round of applause then scoffed.

Visit? I thought he was invisible? Now he is a visitor. Is it until I become homeless and injured that the Lord will know that I need help. Just be playing.

"Then, what? You cooked a meal to welcome him. Oh sorry, I forgot. You were homeless. Where did he visit you then? Under a bridge? In a bus park? Where?"

"Bring your hand." She grabbed my hands and started praying. I was shocked at the way she prayed heartily for me. As if she loves me. Did she really love me?

She was praying in English and in another language. I felt my heart thawing.

Oh, no you don't. I can't just let someone melt my frozen heart. What is this?

I felt wonderful.

When she finished praying. She spoke to me about Jesus. The name I had so much dreaded.

"He can't love me! He doesn't love me! He killed my mother. He let her die. My dad ran away. I am so hurt!" I shouted.

She hugged me.
Tears fell.

She really loved me.

"Just do Jesus a favour and talk to him."

"About what? About my flaws? About how I've hated him and everyone that knows him? About how he neglected me? About what?!"

"Just try. Talk to him. Tell him you need his love."

I sighed.

All my running away was in vain.

I imagined how happy my mother would be wherever she was.

"Jesus. I have a lot to say but all I can say now is, I really want to know how much you love me. I want to know how your love works. I want to understand you. And, I want you to be my father."

Then, I felt the walls around my tough heart crumble and give way. Tears fell. I was crying in her arms.

I don't understand.

"He loves you."

"I hope so."

"I know so."

The door opened. The men came back. They came with longer whips.

But, why? Who are they? What are they doing here?

I wiped my face and prepared for the worst.

"Hey! Both of you. Stand straight."

We stood straight. That was when I noticed the slight bump in this lady's belly.

"You both are here for a reason and not to eat all the food. You are now spies. You are here to help us bring down all the churches in this city. Every Christian school must go down. Every Christian book must be burnt. Every Christian home must be destroyed. You are going to help us." One of the men said.

"And if you are trying to oppose us, remember the beatings of now. "

Then, we were tied tightly with thick ropes and flogged. At some point, I went completely numb allover. Completely.

I pitied the pregnant lady. I glanced at her after we were flogged. She was breathing heavily. When the men left, I wiggled/crawled to her. That was either because I was tied up or because I was sore allover.

She had tear streaks on her face.

Will the baby even survive?

"Stop! Stop it!" She shouted.

"Stop what?"

"Stop thinking what you're thinking. The baby must survive. I-I had three abortions when I was in school. Now that I'm married, I'm just lucky that I'm still pregnant."

"You're married? Well, okay. How did you know tha....? Well, never mind."

We remained in silence for such a long time that I got bored of looking at her. I crawled toward the other side of the room/hallway. I rest my head on the wall.

When she saw that I moved, she looked really sad. I saw some tears escape her eyes.

I thought that Jesus would take away all your pains. Why is she crying? Did I make a wrong choice in talking to this Jesus guy? The person that told me to talk to him is crying. What confusion! As long as we are fed, I can get used to this life. It's not like anyone is looking for me. My house would just be as silent as it had ever been since my mother died. Pain, rejection, bitterness and rejection.

~FLASH BACK~
Thunder and a heavy shower of rain
"Anome, would you like to follow me to my home? You'll get a cold staying in this rain." He said in his fake accent.

"Mummy, let's go." I pleaded. I was shivering an I had an empty stomach.

"No! Stay here. I have my reasons. We'll get our own home soon." My mother folded her arms and looked away from his breathtaking new car. She eyed the lady who was applying makeup sitting where she was meant to be sitting in the new car.

"But, why? I'm cold."

" Don't listen to him. He's only deceiving you. Just like he did to me."

That was the last time I saw my step-father. I was eight, almost nine when my mother left my step-father's house. My real father claimed that my mother was emotionless and evil. Though, I was never told about the incident. There's no one to tell me anyway. Dad is nowhere to be found, Mum is long gone. I have no other family.

My mother left my step-father's house when he stopped giving her money, banned her from working and locked her indoors for weeks. No food. I sneaked some pieces of bread to her and I rolled some bottles of water to her through a little window.

I battled with the pain of having parents with no love between them. As a child, the only way I could express those feelings were to cry, throw tantrums, scream suddenly, (Once, at the road side, someone ran towards me thinking I was hurt physically. I was hurt emotionally. ) or just to transfer the aggression on others.

Whenever I saw Dad coming home, I would still welcome him. Why? 'Cause it seemed like he loved me. He fed me, bought toys for me, tried to change the subject whenever I cried because of my mother.

Once, he promised to treat her nicely. He said that just so I could help him wash the dirty dishes of his late night fest with ladies and jobless guys.

He lied to me.

When my mother escaped, she took me along.

Then....

"Anome, don't listen to your mother. Come with me. Leave the rain."

I looked at my mother. Pain was boldly written all across her pretty face.

"No, Daddy."

He frowned.

"Well, bye then. Both of you."

~END OF FLASHBACK~

"Is everything alright?" The lady asked. She was standing right in front of me. She had a concerned look. She was free. No ropes.

She held my hand and pulled me up. I was also freed.

I don't even know her name.

"I'm alright. Who untied us? What's your name?"

"You won't believe who untied us. They said you would wake up soon." She gave a large grin.

"Don't tell me." I faked a frown and folded my arms.

"What's your guess?"

"That doctor lady?"

"Nope."

"The chef guy?"

"No."

"Umm....? I hope it's not one of your Bible fairy tales."

"It was really real."

"A-Angels?"

"Exactly."

"Oh come on! They all said they were great invisible beings. Now when I was sleeping, sort of, they came and I didn't see them. You know, seeing is believing."

"In God's supernatural kingdom, believing is seeing."

"And I wasn't sleeping. I was just thinking with my eyes closed." I was sure that I wasn't sleeping.

"For about two hours?"