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The Burdens of a Tormented Soul...Overlay E-Book Reader
Solange Jacques

The Burdens of a Tormented Soul...

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Produktdetails

Verlag
BookRix
Erschienen
2019
Sprache
English
Seiten
CCXVII
Infos
CCXVII Seiten
ISBN
978-3-7487-2345-5

Kurztext / Annotation

Antoinette is a young, religious, spunky teen with loads of character. She deems anyone who falls in love as pathetic, but when she meets him, she is conflicted... Does she stay true to her morals and religious values, or does she fall hard and just forget all the advice that she has been taught for the past 15 years? This decision is bigger than to love or not to love, it's a tug of war between her beliefs and her undying soul... Different stories, unique reactions, and loads of emotional outbursts. For some, they find love and acceptance easily, whereas for others, it was always meant to be an emotional rollercoaster. Each scenario leads into a poetic breakthrough of mental courage and life changing epiphanies... This book would be the definition of love, betrayal, unacceptance, and societal uprising bursting at the seams...

Textauszug

Chapter 1: The Family Tree

I creek my eyes open to the start of an almost TOO bright and sunny day. I feel very well rested, and as I try to decipher and remember what day of the week it is, I look across from me and see my angelic looking sister still sound asleep.

"LISETTE!" my grandmother shouts.

"LISETTE, VINI!" she yells again, even louder.

My grandmother loves the idea of having a million grandchildren. To her, the more grandchildren she has, the more, free house attendants she has access to. I adore my Haitian grandmother with her broken English accent. She loves me equally and never makes me cook or clean because technically, I am the bastard child in my family.

"LISETTE! LISETTE!!! VINI DESANN!!!!!" the screaming continues.

I throw a pillow at my sister, irritated, knowing that she is the "Lisette" that my grandmother is yelling up the stairs for, and...I almost feel sorry for her.  Her eyes crack open, revealing bloodshot eyes, and an angry snarl for waking her out of her beauty sleep.

I smile at her discomfort....

 "You're up!  I know she isn't calling ME, she never calls ME," I say, loud enough to disrupt her sleep even further.

She lets out a frustrated groan, and steadily climbs out of bed, upset and sleepy from the overwhelmingly spiritual event, we endured the night before.  Yesterday, my grandparents housed a benefit concert at our church that didn't end until 2 A.M.  Yea, I know that 2 A.M. seems like an early night, but with our strict family being heartfelt Christians, this is the only time we are allowed to be out past 8 P.M.  To be honest, we are lucky if we are even given permission to go out to the store after 5 P.M.  I remember I wanted to get snacks from the deli, right around the corner.  I made a mistake and asked my grandpa.

His response was, "Women are not to leave the house!  You are created only to cook and clean!"

I was mortified of his idea of women.  I cringe, reliving the moment, and shake it off...

Anyway, looking back on the evening, Alicia was acting so wild...wildly spiritual that is.  She caught the Holy Ghost and started speaking in "tongues" and sweating profusely.  I mean, I can't judge.  It's never a bad thing to catch the "Holy Ghost" in the house of God.  Personally, I haven't been "touched" by God is such an extreme way, but I guess it will only happen if you are giving praise the right way... It's either that, or I am the child of Satan.  I consider myself an angel, but that is my personal opinion.

She shoots me a death glare, as she obviously envies my relaxed position on my temporary bed.  I grin victoriously back at her, and she shakes her head at my silliness as she begins to descend a million steps to hear the various chores that our grandma has listed for her today.

My father loved his mother so much that he named his two daughters right after her. My name is Lisette Adele Jean and my younger sister's name is Lisette Alicia Jean.

As I hear the hard thumps from Alicia dragging her feet down each step, I can't help but feel grateful that I'm labeled "the awkward child" in my family. Maybe they feel bad that my father decided to choose my "gorgeous" mother to have a baby out of wedlock with. Who knows? Maybe he just felt like rebelling for a year considering that he had my three brothers, then me randomly, and then my little sister right after leaving my pregnant mother.  I know my sister's mother hates me... That would be obvious considering the circumstances, but I don't care. I have a very large and loving family that speaks a language that I was never fortunate enough to learn. The fact that I can barely understand what most of them are saying doesn't bother me.  In fact, it tends to save me 99% of the time.

I sigh and stare up at the ceiling.  I c

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