Smiling victoriously, I opened the door, didn’t look back and gripped the gold mask in my hand, as a souvenir.

I sashayed up the long hall way, my high heels clickety-clacked against the fake marble.

I put my hand on my hip and gripped my purse and the mask. I quietly entered the Main Assembly, grabbing a Song Book. I sat in the back and prepared for church services, my heart pounding.

I felt bad. Really bad. I searched the ceiling for God to strike me dead with lightning.

I sat down next to a man I’d never seen before, closed my eyes, put the mask in my purse and clapped my hands when Pastor Troy Darling got behind the podium.

I’d just missed communion. I wasn’t
going to eat the bread and drink the fake wine anyways.

“Come with that power now, Reverend!” I screamed out, tears falling down my face, feeling ashamed for what I just did, the way the power of
my flesh took over me.

I heard a series of Hallelujahs and people who shared in my fake passion to hear the preacher speak with the usual smooth, powerful sermon he always gave.

I was scared of death!

I was scared of hell, and right then and there I made a vow, Lord, from this day forward I leave the slut behind and I will prepare myself for the judgment!
And this time I meant it.

I was going to give what’s his name back his wallet in person. Ask for his forgiveness, stop that shipment and call my girl Stacey and tell her I was sorry but I didn’t want to die and go to hell, even though it might already be too late.

But I still had time to try.

I was going to give a testimony.