The question I ask myself every time is how someone can be filled with so much hate and at the same time pretend to be a full of meekness and humility. The irony baffles me and makes me wonder the extent at which humans are truthful liars. I have come to understand that the world that we live in is filled with oxymoron people both existing and non-existent
I regarded Poppy as a vey good friend. In fact I regarded her as the best there was on the surface of the earth. She was the definition of a ride or die chic and I had entrusted in her so much as I was so sure she would do anything to harm me. Like why would she anyway. We went way back to the diaper days. We were sisters but from different birth mothers and fathers
Poppy was too honest. Her honesty has no bounds. She was a devout Christian and never gave up in trying to pull me to her side of the coin. I was an atheist. I refused or rather I just did not believe in any belief whatsoever and I was doing very well for myself. I had regarded myself as an atheist (A Thoughtful Honest Ethical Intelligent Skeptical Thinker) and I did not see the reason why I need a belief to live through this thing called life. However, in Poppy’s eyes, I was a fish she would do anything within her power to catch and move into her Christian-dom so I guess that could be one of the reasons why she never left my side.
Then Poppy got pregnant. How on earth did she pregnant was the question she never gave me an answer to. Poppy is or rather was a virgin so I believed and virgins do not get pregnant.
“Don’t worry yourself” Poppy would tell me whenever she went through contractions and I would rush to her side to help her and also bombard her with questions concerning the birth father “You want to know everything but this baby right here is the will of God”
Sigh. As usual, the God factor had a way of sipping into every conversation we had or tragedy that befall Poppy and I usually held my comment every time. I was not prepared for an argument anyway.
I stopped inquiring about the birth father and focused my thinking resources on other things that mattered in my life. Poppy had a hard successful labor bringing Craig into this world and I was there to witness every moment. While she was getting some rest from the crazy labor episodes, something on the bedside table stole my attention. It was a creased paper, more like a doctors report on maybe certain tests or drug prescriptions. I walked up to the table, picked the paper up and scanned through the details.
Pain, panic, heart sore, hurt, rage and anger encompassed my soul from within. At that point I glanced at Poppy and I knew that I was going to send her back to her maker.
The report which I read was a paternity test report and Craig, Poppy’s child, was my fathers.
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