A Pastor's Daughter's Diary

Genevie

Dear Jesus,

When I woke up this morning, the first person that sprung up in my mind was Genevie.

I don't know why but I've now learnt to trust my intuition, so I prayed for her. Whatever kind of prayer there is, I prayed for Genevie. I prayed in the Spirit too until the burden let up a little.

Today's Monday. Physics paper.

Nervousness made me go to school quite early. I got there as early as 6:00am. Mom tried all she could to have me relax and wait a bit longer.

"It's still very dark outside. I wonder if you'll even get a bus to take you to school," Mom said to me. At that moment I was gobbling down the bread, jam and tea she had forced me to eat, saying that I needed all the glucose in my brain in order to ace that Physics exam and that I didn't eat anything last night.

Dad was still asleep. I guessed he was just so exhausted from all the running around yesterday.

"Don't worry Mom. The street lights of the estate are on. And there's always an early bus that comes few minutes to six. Kathy told me," I replied her with my full mouth.

I dumped the remaining crumbs of bread in the waste bin and slushed down the tea. One minutes was too much for me to wash my plate. I slung my school bag over my shoulder, gave her a peck on the cheek and dashed out the door.

"Don't forget to help me get that parcel from the post office after school today," she reminded me. Aunty June sent something again.

"I will."

"Love you, my star." I gave her a cheeky smile. I love it when she says those words making me feel like I'm an invaluable diamond in the sky not like some unwanted meteorite that landed in her yard.

"I love you too, Mom."

When I got to the exam hall, Genevie was already there.

That was strange. Genevie is a popular. She rarely comes early for anything. She loves to be the center of attraction with everyone gaping at her last-to-come, red carpet entry.

She sat alone at the back of the exam hall. That was another element that made me know something was off.

Genevie's rarely alone. She is almost always flanked by her friends: both giggling, overly made-up girls and flirty boys who came to try their luck.

She hates sitting at the back. She likes the front row. Even on the day before our exam, she had specifically told the teacher arranging us to place her seat near the front. And of course, it was granted. I mean, her parents are rich and influential in the school board. No teacher would want to get in the black book of Genevie Byrne.

I greeted her good morning. Her gruff reply only helped to reinforce my suspicion that something's wrong. She had a far away look on her face.

Meanwhile, my gentle self, not wanting to ruffle anyone's feathers or step on an angry cobra's tail like the last time, settled into my seat, arranging my books. I was about flipping the page of my Physics note to revise when I felt you.

Instinctly, I bowed my head on the table and began praying, speaking in unknown tongues at intervals. I did it quitely though. An empty hall has a way of amplifying the slightest sound.

You began to nudge me again towards Genevie. The same way you did when I newly met John.

I prayed for her, trying to shake off your what I knew was you telling me to go to her.

I failed.

Woefully.

I sighed in resignation and stood up to go to her.