22
Rue
I’m in church, sitting next to my sister in the third pew from the front. Ama is absently picking at a scab on her knee while staring up at Father Derrik in the pulpit. Father Derrik is all fired up, preaching about brimstone and damnation to the whole congregation. He doesn’t pull any punches, getting very graphic when he tells us all exactly what he’s trying to save us from.
You’ll be boiled in oil, and then rolled in salt. The salt will seep into every wound, stinging infernally. But that is only the beginning of the suffering you’ll endure!
He pounds his fist.
Your eyes will pop out of their sockets. Your tongue will be the first muscle that bloats. Your mouth will be filled with dead flesh so that you cannot scream!
He pounds his fist.
Your skin will melt from your bones
