Life After Death by Sister Souljah

Author:Sister Souljah
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Atria/Emily Bestler Books
Published: 2021-03-02T00:00:00+00:00

“Our Father who art in heaven

Hallowed be thy name

Thy kingdom come

Thy will be done

On earth as it is in heaven

Give us this day our daily bread

And forgive us our trespasses

As we forgive those who trespass against us.

And lead us not into temptation

But deliver us from evil

For thine is the kingdom

And the power and the glory

Forever and ever amen.

I repeated each sentence after her. The door opened, no knock again. It was a young woman. Finally, not another old bitch, I thought to myself.

“Excuse me, Mother Maria. Here’s the candle.” She placed it on the dresser in exchange for the dirty water basin. I could hardly contain my joy at seeing that candle, even though it had a very faint flicker through the thick glass jar it sat in. I kept my jaw locked shut. Yeah, I had a bunch of questions I needed answered. But not at the risk of causing the grandmother to say even one more word or to remain in my room for even one more minute. It didn’t work. The old lady sent the young one out with the basin. She turned, reached out, and touched my hair. Instinctively, I leaned back.

“You have quite a lovely head of hair. The Bible says that a woman’s hair is her glory. The Lord made your hair glorious.” I just looked at her from the leaning position. “But it seems that your ends are singed. Did you have some experience with fire?” She smiled. I straightened up. “You requested the candle. I wouldn’t like for you to harm yourself,” she said, hiding her suspicion of me unsuccessfully.

The young woman walked in carrying a basin filled with clean water. She placed it onto the dresser top. “No, nothing like that. I had a straightening comb that got too hot and it singed my ends. But I plan to clip them and wash my hair,” I said smiling politely, even though I was running real low on patience.

“What is your name, my dear?” she asked me. No one had asked me that question since I was shot dead and had arrived at the Last Stop Before the Drop. They all either knew it already or didn’t ask at all.

“Brooklyn,” I said without even thinking.

“Brooklyn, this young lady, who is named Petra, and who has graciously brought you the candle you requested, was once in your same position. I will let her share the rules of the convent guesthouse and our expectations.” I thought the grandmother was going to walk out and leave us two young women to talk. She didn’t. The young woman sat down beside me. The grandmother stood directly over us. I was like, Oh my fucking god! Petra started speaking like a programmed puppet. “Welcome to the Sisters of Grace Convent, which has been in existence for more than one thousand years, here at the Last Stop Before the Drop. Although you may feel uncomfortable at first, our goal is to make you comfortable and prepare you to protect your soul in the name of Jesus.

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