It's not like she didn't believe in God. She didn't know if this 'mystical creature' existed. But then one day Jared Ramirez and freaky spiritual guy Bob Green save her from a speeding car. All this near a church on a Sunday. Then it's worse because her mom doesn't appreciate this atheist and the guy who insist Jesus wasn't real but a good man anyways. Can this friendship survive? Will love come out of it in the end? " Only God knows," her mother would say.

Sorry if it offends you

It was another Sunday morning. My mother had insisted on me coming to church with her. I had nothing against believers I just wasn't sure if there was something to believe in.

I'm mean last was the year to die.

About five months ago my Uncle died. My mom refuses to tell me about what happened to her little brother. But my cousin Marielle had told me that her father had committed suicide with some pills and alcohol. I felt sorry for my cousin Mary I loved her death , and her two little brothers, and half sister had no idea what happened to their dad. At the funeral David asked for his Papa. How could you blame him he's only two?

Then my sweet great aunt Mati had died from lung cancer. Her only daughter couldn't even come because she was still in Haiti with her husband. I never even meet her daughter I still don't know her name. I regret never learning Creole so I could talk to my aunt more. She took care of me since birth and the least I could do was say "I love you" in her native language. She never learned any English she couldn't get an education ,and she had to work to get her sons to come to the country too.

I only know this because my mom told me this when she died.

Her daughter was suppose to come two years ago but couldn't since the riots in Haiti were becoming worse and worse by day. Her husband was shot while protesting in Port-au-Prince. Well he is better. I tired of referring to my cousin as Mati's daughter. I didn't even know they had kids till about three weeks ago.

Then my best friend Rodney uncle had a heart attack. He died in his sleep about two in the morning that's what the autopsy report stated. He had married a Filipino but she also died but ten years ago.

Then the pastor's daughter died she was born with some disease. She was in a wheel chair as far as I could remember. She couldn't talk but wow could she smile. She was about 22 when she died. Even thought she couldn't say her name she would always make you feel warm inside.

A lot other people died I can't remember mostly friends or distant cousins.

It's hard to keep your faith I'm trying to but I can't.

So anyway I'm walking in to church. I haven't been here for about six Sundays. I always sit in the back with my cousin E-Man. He's real name is Emmanuel but he insists on being called E-Man we gave he the nickname You-U I guess he got tired of that. I mean it is a weird nick name but that's what we called him.

He came to America about six years ago along with my fresh cousin Sarah ( we call her Sawa) and her mom Genesis yes like the bible.

" So what you doing here?" he asked. Right now I wasn't paying attention to a word my pastor said. I didn't understand it anyway but I had to pretend to so my mom wouldn't put me in 'a genou' for Christ sakes I'm 16!

" My mom was forcing me to come."

An old woman shushed me. She said something to me in Creole and I had the need to smack her. I was tired of all these old Haitians doing whatever they pleased skipping me in line and calling me a whore because I wore I low cut shirt to and jeans to church.

People in church are all hypocrites, they gossip too much too. Hate the sin not the sinner.

What about Jean Marquis? He's gay and now he's not allowed to go to church! I don't think he can go to the place where your suppose to love and call some one a ma sissy.

But any way I continued to pretend I know what Pastor Jack was talking about, I ended up falling asleep on my cousin's shoulder.

When I woke up church was over and E-Man kept poking me to get off him. The old lady behind me was looking at me from the front. She was talking to the other pastor Morris she pointed at me and they both gave me dirty looks.

I rolled my eyes and got up ready to go. I wasn't going to stay in place where I wasn't welcome.

" Your mom is going to beat you with a ceinture," he said. He started laughing.

" I'm to old be beaten with a belt okay."

" That doesn't mean she's not going to do it."

I rolled my eyes and we were already outside the church. Across the street was a bakery that happened to sell liquor. My dad goes there all the time. He's 'refined' now. Since forever my dad was an alcoholic and still is. But he's not as angry and drunk as usual. But he still drinks cheap Winn Dixie wine.

" It's not wrong if it's in the bible and Jesus did it." I've heard that a million times in Creole, English, and even Spanish. He worked at construction site with a lot of Cubans and maybe some Puerto Ricans.

I didn't bother telling him back then there wasn't even alcohol in wine it was just grape juice.

But we'd probably get in another argument and my mom will take his side as usual. Even when he was a drunken abusive maniac.

" Man we need to fix up this street there's to many speeding cars here." I was getting tired of old '67 Cadillacs speeding and hitting lamp post. " Come one there's no cars coming let's cross."

" Naw I can't I have no money."

"Fine I'll buy you some akasan"

I started walking and my heel suddenly snapped and then a car came speeding maybe a hundred miles a hour . I froze as the car kept honking not exactly slowing down.

" Get out the way!" I heard Emmanuel's voice yelling. Then I felt a pair of arms wrap around my waist and I ended up on the other lane as I saw the car go pass me.

I swear to God I was going to have a heart attack.

Everyone from the church came rushing over to the street. I couldn't find my heroes maybe it was all a dream and by some slight chance the big bully up in heaven sent me two angels. I all I could see were two fading faces. I think one them had a piercing.

It was a mob scene all I could hear was thank you Jesus in Creole. And I saw my mom crying. It was quite emotional. But I wasn't exactly going "Thank you o Lord oh mighty!"

" Thank you for saving her." I turned and saw two men looking down on the old lady from church. I couldn't see there faces but soon the crowd broke up when the cars on the lane wanted them to move their love fest somewhere else.