Beneath the cozy roof of my three bedroom apartment came the sound of sizzling. A knife thud the chopping board as it sliced through chicken and veggies, a tall pan of potatoes brought to a raucous boil and the oven crisped the cheese pyramided throughout the golden swirly noodles of mac. And the one brewing this extravagant feast was none other than my sister.

Whilst she did that, my mother was washing and hanging the clothes, visibly upset that the neighbors were playing their country and western tunes a bit too loud. There wasn't much clothes left for her to rinse and she would be done for the day to rest her aching feet. She grew up doing this which is why she was more quick and efficient than the both of us.

And there I was, going up and down the house with my phone in hand, playing dress-up mobile games while I listened to Beyoncé's succulent voice gallop through my ear canals. I stopped at the window and watched as people from all walks of life poured into the nearby church, men, women, and children all equipped with the word. Soon after the pastor started preaching, they started to fill the area with their worship and hymns.

Although my sister and mother are devout Christians who believes you can love the lord without attending hypocritical churches, I incline more toward atheism. When I was younger, all of us used to attend my aunt's church, but one Sunday we skipped a service and never went back.

Religion has never struck a chord with me. I felt guilty and evil for not feeling "the holy ghost" and identifying the stories with blatant lies and gaps right away. Nevertheless, given that society has ingrained these falsehoods and unfair interpretations of the scriptures in me from birth, it seems as though they have always been a part of me. Almost baked into my existence. I suppose this is why it's ten times more difficult to love myself correctly.

10:45 a.m
   Mandy's eyes quivered open. She massaged her eyes one by one as they dotted around, trying to get a hold of reality and haul herself out of the deep abyss of sleep that had exploded from under her. She picked up her phone and became irritated when she saw the time. Her typical weekend wake up time was not at this hour, so she was very upset with whoever was laughing, singing, and loudly clacking glasses against each other.

    Pouring out from her bed with her comforter wrapped around her, she trudged to the place that festered the noise. She discovered her mother sitting with a number of local churchgoers, along with a large platter of appetizers and nonalcoholic wine. Is this the reason behind her recent large grocery purchase?

"Good morning everyone. What's going on?"

"Oh, I brought the pastor here to speak with you Mandy!"

"Huh? Why?"

"Well-" the pastor rested his glass on the tray "your mother wanted me to come by to speak with you on your actions and how hurtful and disruptive they've been lately. I heard you have even deployed your boyfriend into a war of words with her!"

"What?! Yeah, I'm not doing this!" Mandy said as she hassled back into her room and banged the door shut.

"See what I'm dealing with pastor?"

"Yes, yes! You may have a lot of work on your hands but the lord will intervene!"

"Thank you. I trust he will!"

"Let's say a quick prayer before I go!"

"Pray for her to stop liking ugly men too!" Mandy's voice came through her room door.

11:23 a.m
   There was a simpatico church in Carson's affluent neighborhood, paid for and furnished by the neighbors. The doors looked like the handcrafted entryway to ancient temples. Your soul peered back through the shiny mirror dimension sewn into the tiles as you strolled down the hall. There were thousands of candles lit everywhere, particularly around the alter. The sanctuary, where chalices were perched atop the enormous cross known as Christ's death bed, was located next to the above level podium that held the largest bible one could ever lay eyes on.

Beth was taking in this new orgasm of scenery for the first time today at the front of the service with her father and his wife when she spotted Carson walking up the aisle. The two shared a head nod and smile before Carson's family sat behind them and the service started when violins were struck up commencing the choir. If this was how pristine and put together the church and people around him was Beth understood why he spiraled and needed some instability. Perfect smiles, lives, cars. It was like an ad for an America dream life. Nothing like the other parts of Saint Lucia. And most who attended the church were white or mixed with lighter skin tones and "proper accents".

Once the ceremony was over, the adults stayed to talk and indulge with a few glasses of wine whilst they sent all the children downstairs for an hour or two for "Sunday Summer Church Camp". Beth was nervous as it was her first time and felt a bit like an outsider. But her nervousness quickly toppled when she took in her surroundings.

There was a girl her age with a cigarette lodged between her two fingers, boys talking about wanting girls to send them nudes under a portrait of the lord himself and two girls were kissing and fondling each other next to a window where she paused at.

"Fuck are you looking at?" One questioned.

"Oh, my bad! Sorry!"

But Beth was still there, staring right at them.

"Bro, what the fuck do you want?!"

"Um, yes.... Can I just ask... when y'all like... knew?"

"Knew what?"

"That y'all liked... girls"

"Um... fifth grade for me when I kissed a girl at a school lock in"

"I always knew. I just had confirmation when I kissed a girl a year ago"

"Ohhhhhhh"

"That all?!"

"Yeah... yeah! Thank you!"

    This scene alone convinced her that her father truly didn't know what he was talking about when he battled with her mother years ago trying to convince her to make her move to this environment full time because it was "better".

    Meanwhile, Carson had headed back upstairs just in time to catch his parents heading towards the door. The family stumbled to the parking lot but as his father unlocked the car, a church elder halted their drive home as he needed to speak with his parents. Annoyed because he knew how long they always spoke, he fastened his seatbelt and became restless as he did lip trills with his eyes wondering through the window and grating the surface of the car's messy scenery.

Thats when he noticed a bunch of letters in the car seat pocket of the passenger seat. Curious, he scuffled through them one by one. They were letters from his sponsor sending him well wishes, supportive messages and different techniques to have the highest percentage of turning away from drugs.

That's when he then realized that his mother must have intercepted those letters and kept it a secret. But why? He continued scouring through them to find her notepad. He could tell she wrote a letter back to her because the words had been transcribed onto the below page of the one she ripped out.

He quickly took a pencil and shaded the print to read her response. She told his sponsor to please stop sending letters as she didn't want her neighbors to find them. She also said that because the murder investigation of DeeJay was already nerve racking enough for Carson and that she was perfectly capable of keeping her son in check. She had cameras secretly installed in the his room after the house was searched to make sure he wasn't doing anything.

He didn't know what to make of this. He knew his sponsor was tied up with a lot going on but even his mother and father not showing that much interest or severity in what he was doing to himself and even if they did they were going about it wrong. Or was he the one fucking up everything? That thought made him want to cry. But then, his phone got a notification from Dustin and all of a sudden there was no other thought in his head than him.

He let Carson know he would be taking his grandfather to church and would be off his phone for the next couple hours. So to make time fly by faster, Carson spent his afternoon scrolling through pictures of him. Dustin hadn't been texting as much as before which weighed on him but he couldn't help but light up at any single message he sent. That and the lasagna he nibbled on once he was at home were the highlights of his day.

1:33 p.m
The day for Dustin was nerve racking. He had to take his grandfather to the morning mass but since he was preoccupied they had to switch to the afternoon mass. As soon as he got up that morning, his mother and him got to cooking.

They washed the dishes, cut up onions, garlic, green fig, parsley and placed their bouillon to a boil. The two did a general cleaning room by room, scrubbing and dusting everything until they had mixed so many chemicals that they were on the verge of passing out. Lastly, they set the huge table under the newly built balcony in their backyard and invited the entire family to eat.

As usual, it was chaotic and the mess was the WORST to clean. But once it was done he gave his grandfather a bath, got him ready for church in a snazzy suit with a white cowboy hat, shined his boots, packed his medicine, tied his tie and had his uncle drop them off at the largest communicable church in BerkVille. And out of all of that, getting his grandfather into the car was the most time consuming.

By the time they stepped through the doors, mass had already started and his grandfather was rushing to get a good seat. They looked about for one and many of his grandfather's friends approached him in good spirits sending him well wishes. It was like a nursing home with a live band and worship.

But Dustin was intimidated by it all. The stern piercing opinions and judgmental biases that those elderly people uphold. The book that gave the commands on what we humans should or shouldn't partake in. And the goosebump inflicting voice that ripped out of the speakers owned by the pastor who didn't hold back on delivering the "good word of the lord". Worst part of all, the discussion tonight was people falling victim to temptation.

Every sentence made Dustin look into himself and want to rip his skin off. All the attractions he had towards men flipped through his mind like a comic book as he began to sweat and breathe in and out. He thought of the engulfment of raging flames washing over him and burning the filthy thoughts and shameful acts he had done from his tainted spirit. Why was he like this? An unnatural, untamed beast walking amongst men.

But his thoughts wandered as he took in his surroundings. He observed people who frequently drank, used profanity, and made advances on girls who were either minors or barely adults shaking their heads in agreement. And he felt it. Everything they uphold was false. Humans have a manufactured obsession with the idea that there might be something to hold onto after death in order to feel better. That they had some significance. That when they beg for pardon, their transgressions can just be forgotten and they wouldn't have to deal with proper judgement. That they selectively push some people to hell based on what they decides makes the scales fall to the earth.

And all of a sudden he wasn't tense anymore. Tears welded into his eyes and he felt free. Nothing could hold him back anymore.

"Aw! The sermon moved you to tears my boy?" The lady sitting next to him asked.

"No, but I know your funeral won't move any of your family to tears!" And Dustin gave her a wicked stare.

6:33 p.m
My mother sent me outside to dispose of the leftover food I had left "soaking" in a skillet on the stove while I was assisting her with the dishwashing. However, I witnessed a shadowy figure take off and leap into the bushes as I stepped outside. I couldn't tell if it was a man or a woman, but I began to wonder if my mother's eerie tales about her early years spent in Saint Lucia's south were indeed genuine.

That's when I saw something scribbled on a red note that was lying on the ground. Similar to the one I discovered a few days ago. I picked up the note and placed the pan down on the floor.

"Once I find proof of what you really hide I'm coming for you. Don't say I didn't warn you. Is it the ants in your pants that make you so jittery? Or it it something else you're hiding in them?"

I dumped the food into the gutter and staggered back inside, panting and gasping. Am I being watched by someone? Should I alert my mother, knowing that it would simply frighten her into always worrying about my safety? What exactly is this enigmatic entity attempting to locate?