Deroda's Diary

  Life was back to normal. Occasionally I had thoughts about Beatrice, but it was not from the place of sorrow. I knew better, even though it was hard healing. I wasn't mad at God but I found it difficult getting back to him after a long period of not talking to him. I could never avoid Sunday Church cause my parents will not have it. I would sit with them and distract myself through the sermon. This Sunday after our long discussion about Beatrice, I decided to pay attention.  "What was said to you at the point of believing?" The voice of the preacher echoed through the auditorium. "A God that gives all that you want?" I felt the air in my chest tighten.  "We would be lying if we said that." He chuckled a little. "Christ the author and finisher of our faith said in this world we will have troubles, but this we know," His fingers tapped on the pulpit, "that we have overcome like he did." He wiped his forehead with an handkerchief.  ...

Mrs Williams came over to the house. She looked way better than the last time I saw her. She seemed to have totally come to terms with Beatrice's death, she laughed easily and loudly too at the jokes. I felt very uncomfortable at this. It was barely three months and she was forgetting Beatrice already. At least, that was what I felt. I must hold on to every memory of Beatrice, she would have done the same for me. I couldn't go back to life like nothing had happened. Mrs Williams gave me Beatrice' bible, she felt she would have loved for me to have it if she had the chance to say it. I left her and mum discussing at the dinning table to go and inspect the bible in my room.  I sat on my bed, my hands clenched the bible to my chest. I have seen Beatrice read from it countless times. We would read from it together sometimes. I turned it around, inspecting it. It had a blue cover laced by glitters with a mini pocket at the back. NKJV. Would there be some secret inside? You know,...