My family seems to be perfect from the outside looking in. We have the big house, the money for things, the million-dollar-smiles... but nothing is ever as it seems.
We're plastic. We're fake. So fake, in fact, that we hide the little things abo...
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Sunday.
Another day at church where we pretend we're the perfect family. We even pretend in front of God. None of my family confesses to their sins, and I follow suit. I don't know how to approach asking forgiveness. I've never seen it done in my family.
Hypocrites. That's what we are. What they are. Maybe I'm one too.
The Ten Commandments. That's what we're learning today, I guess. Don't lie, don't steal, don't cheat, etcetera. I lost count of how many sins my family has committed over the past four months alone. Why are we even allowed in church?
Because church is a hospital for the sinners, not a museum for the saints, I remind myself, as I do often on Sundays. And we sure do need a hospital...
I hear something behind me, and turn to see Dahlia slipping into a pew three rows back with a boy with dark skin. I turn back around, hoping she didn't—and doesn't see me. I didn't think she wasn't the church type.
I say that as if I'm the 'church type' myself. I guess I am a hypocrite...
The sermon goes on and on. We end with a song and five people to up to the front to get saved, to repent from their sin. I smile and a hole burrows inside of me. Why can't I do that? Just give it all to God? Just get rid of it all and feel the mercy of His forgiveness?
The lights come back up and the preacher dismisses us from the room. People start shuffling out, some waving to my parents or me. My brother isn't here. He said he felt sick this morning so he stayed home. Probably a side effect from not taking his drugs. Withdrawals. That's the word I'm looking for.
"Hey, Barbie," I hear behind me.
My brain starts to panic as the memory of what she had said after dinner that night spins in my head. 'Well, at least I know why you're plastic now.' What did she even mean by that? Does she know something?
I say a quick prayer in my head before turning around and smiling.
"Hello, Dahlia," I smile politely. "I didn't know you went to church."
"Why? Because I have purple in my hair?" She snaps.
"No—no, I... I just didn't know—"
"Uh-huh. Well. Just wanted to say hi." Her eyes scan the crowd. "Where's your brother?"
"He's sick," I say, knowing it's the truth.
"Ah," she smiles and nods, her eyes filled with a knowledge I don't understand. "Whelp, see you around Barbie."
With that, she disappears into the crowd. I'd felt something ignite inside of me as she said the name. Barbie.
I take a breath and shake my head. I'm not going to lose my composure now. I've held it for so long... why lose it now?
