4

“You're all fucking useless!” Papa yelled, and everyone in the room fell silent.

No one could move, and not a single person here wanted to speak.

“Isn't three million enough? There's already a huge bounty for you when you turn them in, yet not a single lead?” Papa snapped before turning to me.

I have a bad feeling. When Dad looked at me, I felt like I was the one he was going to focus on next.

“You, rebelling before you even look for your brother?” I lowered my head and gasped when a loud slap made my whole body feel the force of the hard strike.

I trembled, not from fear. From anger. Really, in front of other people too. I could accept it if it were just the two of us, but in front of so many people, it's infuriating.

“I asked other reliable people and they said that someone is stopping us from finding Nova, or it's just that Nova doesn't want to be found.” I received another loud slap, and I wanted to sink into my seat. Once is enough, but he did it a second time.

“Fuck all of this, Nova is all alone, there are so many of you looking for her, and you're going to give me such a shallow reason?” Dad threw the papers and pointed to the door.

“Get out, or I will shoot all of you here.” No one could move or make a sound. Everyone here was hesitant out of fear, because they knew how different Papa's temper was.

“NOW!” And after Papa shouted, they all scrambled to leave, and Arthur tried to calm Papa down.

I walked out weakly, closing the door behind me and leaving Dad with Arthur.

I walked, carrying nothing, out of the mansion, but I still felt out of it. I didn't know where I was going, but I didn't know how to let out my anger.

For weeks and days, Papa has been making me feel nothing but pain, as if I have no right to rest, get tired, or even pause, all because his favorite child is missing.

I want to get out of this place right now, I just want to leave, like Nova did, but I don't have the strength. I can't leave Papa, especially since I know I'm the only one left to be with him.

But Papa didn't value it; he doesn't see my reason for staying with him now, even though it feels like I'm going through hell, especially at this moment.

Why is it like this? Why, no matter what I do, can't I find the right reason for why I'm experiencing all this hardship and pain?

I'm such a hardworking person; I make sure to give Papa everything I can.

They say that God won't give you a problem if you're too weak to get through it. What's funny is, I don't even believe in the god of people, because why? But why do I have to be put through this? Why do I have to suffer? This isn't my decision to be put through all this. Yes, I'm questioning all this chaos, all these trials that are tearing me apart. And I know I endure all this shit, but still, it's not enough.

This is too much, God isn't real, all they say isn't true.

If God is real, why would he make me suffer like this? I never even wanted to be Vladimir's son, I didn't ask for all the situations I've been through, endured, and what's happening to me now.

And when I stopped walking, I was already at the church door, the cold breeze made what I was feeling worse this time.

I smirked. Why did my feet bring me here? I just said I fucking hate church, I hate this so-called God of normal people.

“Fuck all of you, God isn't real, you bastards!” I screamed and felt the tears on my cheeks, wow. I cried. I'm still capable of crying after all this shit?

“Stop the nonsense of making people believe in false hope, that people can run to this crappy church when life is hard, that is fucking bullshit!” I yelled again until I knelt on the ground.

If I had a gun with me, I would have riddled this church door with bullets. If God is really real, why doesn't he stop the suffering I'm going through? Fine!

My whole life has been miserable. I'm living in vain; misery is like a daily routine in my entire existence. Fuck this life, fuck those people, fuck all of them.

“Ah, I'll shoot you all!” I shouted in frustration, until the church door cracked open. A white man came out; his fitted shirt molded to his entire body, as if sculpted by Greek gods.

I'm fixated on his physique, and when I look at his face, I'm stunned. His face is like a miracle in this living hell. 

His striking chin, his pointed nose, and his dark brown eyes seem to speak to me—it’s seductive. And when my gaze fell on his lips, I couldn’t help but bite my lower lip, feeling something unfamiliar that I’d never felt before.

He’s breathtaking.

Okay, God really does exist.

“Miss, is there a problem? Is something bothering you?” He came toward me and knelt down in front of me; I was paralyzed. His rough voice sent a shiver down my spine, and I couldn’t find the right answer for him—I didn’t understand it—it was as if I’d just shattered into four pieces.

“Miss?” he asked again, and I looked away, snorting—why? Suddenly, I felt ashamed of my behavior.

“Come with me into the church,” he offered, before holding out his large, veiny hands to me—damn it, Vivianne, why are you already drooling over the veiny hands of a complete stranger!

You’re such a lustful slut!

But I reached out my hand to him, and he helped me to my feet until we went inside. We walked down the aisle until we stood behind the altar, where there was a small kitchen.

He started preparing something—I couldn’t tell what it was—but he gave me a broad smile, and when he handed it to me, it was tea.

“Why were you so angry out there? Is something bothering you? Why are you questioning the existence of our mighty God?” he asked me, and I felt embarrassed again—so he’d heard my cursing out there; how embarrassing.

If only I’d known he looked so good in here, I probably wouldn’t have made such a scene out there.

“I’m Mattias. A student here, a seminarian.” I furrowed my brow and looked away.

“So you’re going to be a priest soon?” I asked, and he scratched the back of his head and now seemed embarrassed in front of me because I was giving him a rather stern look—well, that’s perfectly normal for me.

“Hopefully—it’s not far off, but the road ahead is still pretty long.” I bit my lip again—what kind of long road popped into your head, Vivianne? The person you’re talking to is becoming a priest, and you just gave him a hard time. I looked back at his hands and now wanted nothing more than to bang my head against the table.

“But whatever’s going through your mind, that’s no reason to lose your faith and trust in God,” he explained, and I rolled my eyes.

“I’m not even baptized; I don’t even have a religion.” After I said that to him, I took a sip of my tea, and he raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“It’s not too late to find your way back to God. Maybe you’re going through all this right now precisely because you have no faith and don’t know God.” After he said that, he stood up, and now I was angry at him.

How dare he lecture me? Just because he’s good-looking doesn’t mean I’m going to let him force a faith on me that makes no sense and holds no truth.

He can’t tell me to believe in these inexplicable things that religion tries to prove to people.

Mattias came back, holding a Bible, and I jumped to my feet as if what he was carrying had burned me, and I wanted nothing more than to run out.

“I don’t need any Bible verses, please.” Mattias set the Bible aside, took a deep breath, and shrugged.

Why are there people like that? I don’t need God’s words—I grew up without God—but it’s not God I’m missing. To me, He’s just an excuse for people’s miserable lives, a way to comfort them that something good will happen because of God, but in reality, life will be good because of the right choices people make.

It’s that simple.

He’s young and handsome, but he’s wasting his life at church. Yeah, dedication. But his life will be better without this false hope he’s feeding people.

“But how many years have you been here?” I asked, and sat down again.

He looked straight into my eyes and smiled at me. I kept my resting bitch face—I felt uncomfortable under his gaze—so I took out my contact lens and threw it away; I still have some at home.

I looked at him again, and he looked shocked when I stared back at him with the same intensity he’d just shown while looking into my eyes.

He left his mouth slightly open, and he finally regained his composure—why does it feel different when those gray eyes lock onto yours?

“Uh, I’ve been here for eight years,” he said and looked away. He suddenly lost his enthusiasm—I wonder why; just a moment ago he was full of energy.

“How’s your life here? Is this really your calling?” I asked—and wow, I’m so talkative, even after my meltdown just a moment ago.

He didn’t respond; he looked down at his hands, then smiled as his attention returned to me.

“I promised someone that if things ever didn’t work out the way they should, I’d run to someone I know won’t abandon me—and that’s God.” He held his mug firmly, and I nodded. What does he mean?

“Are you completely lost?” I asked again—I was full of questions. Why did I seem so interested in him, when I was actually annoyed with him for lecturing me on beliefs I shouldn’t even have to believe in? Now it’s my turn.

“Yes,” he answered quickly, and I smiled.

“But how can you tell that God didn’t turn against you, if whatever you’re saying didn’t actually work out?” I said, and he looked at me, surprised by what I’d said.

“That’s called a trial; what doesn’t last is part of the trial.” I chuckled—that’s funny, a trial?

“How can you say the trial is worth it? Shouldn’t He give you all the good things if God is real?”

“There are things we have to struggle through so that we can say there’s something good after we’ve gone through the hardship.”

“Does that include misery, even if you want it badly?”

“God knows what’s best for us.”

“But we know what’s best for us—we’re the ones who can say that,” I said pathetically. And he just took a deep breath.

“Look, if some people are living in misery every day, and if God is real, then why doesn’t he stop it right away—especially if it’s already ruining people’s lives—if he really does exist?” I sipped my tea, and he nodded.

“God is here to guide us—”

“Guide, or does that just mean he doesn’t exist at all, and we’re just using religion to justify our wrong decisions—just to make us feel better about them?” He stood up and just smiled at me.

“Tomorrow, there’s a Bible study, and everyone’s welcome. Why don’t you come along?” I chuckled and shook my head.

“I’ll believe in your God if you can fill this glass with wine.”

“That’s not how it works.”

“Then God is just an illusion.” I stood up and finished my tea.

"Thank you for the tea and for your words, but I won’t be here tomorrow. You can’t force people to believe your beliefs, and what I just did was state facts from someone who doesn’t share those beliefs—and I still made sure not to disrespect you or your beliefs.”

Mattias approached me and handed me the rosary before speaking again.

“You lack love in your life.”

That struck a chord with me.

I just remembered when I asked Nova, “What is love?” We were both still young back then, and it occurred to me that, yes, the two of us didn’t really know what it felt like to love someone—and the kind of love we shared was because we were siblings, or maybe it was just me, since Dad loved Nova.

I walked away without looking back at Mattias—what he just said was too personal.

One day, I’ll prove to Mattias that not everything he believes and tells me is true.

I reached into my pocket for my phone to call the driver because I was too lazy to walk, and I thought of Nova.

Papa loves her, but not me.

It’s so fucking unfair.

“You know what, Nova? You’re so selfish—you ran away and left everything behind, even me—but look, Dad’s looking for you, while I’m struggling so much with my situation because you ran away. I wish you’d at least taken me with you,” I paused and took a deep breath before speaking again in my voice message to Nova.

“I hate you. I hope I never see you again. I hate liars—you know that. And starting now, I’m forgetting you as a sister. There’s no Viv for you to come back to from now on.” I sent my voice message to Cora’s number and saved her number.

And I blocked it; my new phone notified me asking if I wanted to back up the messages, and I allowed it before hiding my phone in my pocket and running off.