Now imagine seeing your two most hated enemies coming into the most sacred place. How would you feel?
My blood started boiling the moment I saw them. What were they doing here? People who were not even worthy of stepping into church when they couldn't respect their own family. Curses formed at the tip of my tongue but I suppressed it, not daring to even look in their direction as my gaze glued onto the preacher.
His words flew past my ears, unheard. My mind concentrated on something else completely different. Not God. Not the Gospel reading being said out loud as I stood stoically in place. It was on them.
And my emotions.
Why did my family have to be so broken apart? Why couldn't we just be normal? Like others were?