To whom it may concern:
Queen. That’s what my daddy called me for eleven years. He told me to never let anyone treat me any less than one. Everyone should have a daddy like mine. He taught me to always be a leader, value myself, stay ahead of the game, trust no one, stupidity is a terrible flaw and a weakness. He always told me the truth. One of the last conversations I had with him was about Hell. Odd, I know. Who talks to their kid about Hell? The way he described it made me so fearful. He told me I had nothing to worry about, Hell is only for bad people who does wrong. I didn’t sleep that night.
Did he know something I didn’t?
Me and my mama never really got along. It took me by surprise when she picked me up from school and straight to an airport. She told me my daddy would be waiting for us at the hotel when we land. He never showed. She told me he didn’t want us in his life anymore. That I was an embarrassment to him because I was so fat, stupid and bad. So we are stuck here in Rio…or Hell as I’ve renamed it. I realize that the Devil has many different faces but His eyes never change. They are nothing but big cesspools of thick, inky blackness that seems to suck you in if you stare at them even for a second. Like staring directly into the sun too long, only there is nothing sunny about Him. I don’t look at anyone anymore but I still feel Him. Apparently I did something wrong for Him to drag me into Hell. I just wished my daddy would have told me so I don’t have to be bad anymore.
Posted from none other than your favorite writer’s favorite writer Ms Talia