[STORY] MY SPIRITUAL WIFE (Episode 13)

Episode 13.

My Daddy stood startled. He stared at his wife, as she confessed to have killed his; their children.
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Daddy’s eyes were burning red. I bet he couldn’t believe any of these either. His facial expression at this point depicted trying to digest everything he’d heard.

Daddy appeared bemused, momentarily.
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Amidst still trying to process what he’s heard; Daddy suddenly began to advance aggressively towards my stepmother.

Daddy made a move on his wife but was intercepted halfway; before he could execute what he had in mind.
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“Brother John No! No!” Pastor Isaac debunked. “These are familiar spirits at work. You should know better than this, brother John. You should know better than to lose your temper in the house of the Lord; on your wife; on a woman God is already treating her case.”
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My daddy heaved a deep sigh, then buried his head to the ground in shame.
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Daddy is a shy guy. I couldn’t even begin to imagine the magnitude of embarrassment he’d felt at that moment. The fact that he’d allowed his emotions to get the better part of him, enough to have made that move on my stepmother earlier, didn’t even help matters.
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“The church” went berserk with murmur.

Everyone suddenly had something to say but no one was actually saying anything.
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Pastor Isaac ordered that my stepmother be taken into his office.

A few trusted; much “supposed” anointed men of God; prayer warriors were handpicked to accompany my stepmother into the pastor’s office.
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My Daddy quietly walked in behind them.
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Service resumed again shortly after they’d carried my stepmother away.

Pastor Nicholas (the assistant pastor) continued from where he’d stopped preaching. And because of what had happened moments before, the trajectory of his preaching took a turn.
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Pastor Isaac and everyone that’d gone into his office, remained in there, for the remainder of the church program.
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Service rounded up.

One after the other, people began to exit the church.
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Almost everyone that’d come to church that morning had now gone home.

A couple more hours passed, yet there was no sign that Daddy or my stepmother was coming out of the pastor’s office anytime soon.
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I could still hear intense prayers going on in pastor Isaac’s office from where I sat (alone on one of the chairs, inside the church).

I eventually got tired of sitting down for so long; waiting for them to come out, so I stood up and walked out of the church.

I went outside to wait for daddy and my stepmother under a tree, just in front of the church premises.
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I stood out there longer than I’d sat inside the church, waiting.

I’d stood so long, that I began to get very impatient; agitated.
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None of us had eaten anything that morning.

Because I knew that daddy was due to arrive later that day; because I knew that daddy will be coming back home with us (from church) got me very excited.

This excitement was different.

It came with the anticipation of eating from the rice my stepmother had dished into the cooler for when we returned from church.

I was certain that there was no way I wouldn’t eat from it.

Daddy will definitely invite me to join him on the dining table (that is in case my stepmother had decided to be mean again and deprive me of my own share).
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I was still lost in daydreaming about that rice when a loud sound from the main entrance door of the church snapped me back to consciousness.

I raised my head; looked over to see two men springing out from the church; sprinting towards me.
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I recognized the faces very well. They were part of the prayer warriors that’d carried my stepmother into the pastor’s office earlier.

Brother Solomon and brother Jeremiah’s faces were mean looking. Their stares were piercing and of purpose. They ran towards me as fast as their legs could sprint, not taking their eyes off me the entire time.
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I didn’t need anyone to tell me what was happening.

I didn’t even want to know what was happening.

The look on these men’s faces already depicted that all was not well. So, on that note, I took to my heels.
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My short legs could only sprint me so far before I got apprehended.

I was lifted off the floor, high up in the sky as though a sacrifice unto the lord.
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The fear I got engulfed by at that moment, was indescribable. It was most likely responsible for the reason my nerves got the better part of me; why I couldn’t run fast enough.
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My face cracked for a cry but I didn’t; I couldn’t.
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Not a single word of “nonviolent intent” was uttered. Instead, Brother Solomon and brother Jeremiah began to speak in tongues, intensely.

At this point, I was too scared; too terrified to even cry or scream in a manner that’d be a “distress call”.
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We got back inside the church.

I locked eyes with daddy.

At this point, Daddy was standing side by side my stepmother (who now looked much better than the last time I saw her) and pastor Isaac, all seemingly waiting for my arrival.
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You see all those emotions from earlier? The ones that fear couldn’t allow me to express when Brother Solomon and Brother Jeremiah held me high up in the sky on our way back into the church? All those emotions came pouring down on me.

I suddenly began to scream my lungs out.

I was screaming so loud, anyone would have assumed that one of them on sight had a knife in hand, and I’d been told that the next second was going to be my last, on earth.
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“KEEP QUIET IN THE MIGHTY NAME OF JESUS!” Pastor Isaac screamed at me.

I started wondering what “In Jesus name” was doing in ordinary “keep quiet”.

Before I could process what was going on, I’d been cornered and surrounded by five equally mean looking faces.

They were all prayer warriors.

They started binding and casting, a “supposed” demons out of me.
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At first, I was more surprised at all of these weird display than concerned, until I began to feel uneasy.

I was suddenly restless.

I suddenly felt the urgent need to use the restroom.

I felt the urge to puke.

I was suddenly unnecessarily apprehensive.

I was shouting, scratching, screaming, and begging them to stop whatever it was they were doing; saying.
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I rolled all the way to the door and was just about to sprint out when “GET BACK HERE IN JESUS NAME!” got me sprinting right back.
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It was a thirty-three long minutes of torture for me.
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I woke up moments later to worship songs.

I woke up in the arms of my daddy. He was giving thanks at this point.

I looked over to my stepmother. She was staring back at me but instead of “the scornful” facial expression I was now use to, I was met with an eye of remorse.
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Apparently, my stepmother had also been delivered from those funny exhibitions (from earlier).
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We got back home and that night, I couldn’t wait to tell Oluchi about what had happened; about my encounter with those brethren, from my church.

I waited and waited and waited, but Oluchi did not come as usual. Not that night, not the night after and not even the night after the one after.
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Two months passed and still, Oluchi was nowhere to be found.

Oluchi mysterious stopped coming to school too.

To be continued…