He's Not Done. Chapter 1. - by Yahweh's Delight ✨❤️‍🔥

From a distant view, the bold sign "Firm Foundation Summer Camp" catches my attention first. The large square wooden board is painted in striking black and red letters, giving it an almost cinematic feel. My mom suggested it would be a good idea for me to attend a Christian summer camp this year. She deliberately left out the fact that it was a Christian camp until a week before summer began. I live with my mom. I was born in Washington, D.C., and for the first sixteen years of my life, that was home. We relocated to Los Angeles, California, after my dad passed away. He battled leukemia, and two years after his death, my mom decided it would be best for us to have a fresh start. It's been two years now, but the memories of those days are still painfully vivid. My dad's death took a toll on my mom-and no matter how hard she tries to hide it, I can see through her façade. The hurt, the grief, even the warmth and care he once filled our home with... all gone. I used to admire my parents, their love felt magical, like something out of a fairytale. But that story ended too soon. I still remember that day... the day he left us and clung to the cold hands of death. He closed his eyes in an everlasting sleep and never woke up. I know he's in a better place now, at peace wherever he is. Maybe we'll meet again in another life. "Firm Foundation," Mom breathes out, parking the car.I have a complicated relationship with my mom. We don't have the typical mother-daughter bond. When she found out about Zoey, she flipped. That was the tip of the iceberg. After that, I began to question everything. I looked too deeply into things I probably shouldn't have. She said a lot of things no eighteen-year-old should ever have to hear-and I believed them. I still do... sometimes. Maybe some actions really do cost more than we expect. For weeks, I was met with silence-from my mother and from my ex. Soon, it wasn't just them anymore. Whenever I stepped out of what I can barely still call home, it felt like a thousand eyes were on me. Elderly women whispered as I passed, my peers avoided me like I was contagious, and my ex... the look in his eyes was nothing but pure hatred. I never really understood how it all spiraled. He had been every girl's dream, and when we started dating, I felt like I had won the jackpot. He was charming, sweet, and surprisingly understanding. But everything changed when he heard about Zoey. He was the first guy I met in L.A. We were neighbors, and we spent a lot of time together. I started falling for him, and he said he felt the same. We were friends first-close ones. He was the one I gave my virginity to, and for a while, I was happy about it. But after everything fell apart, I just felt... empty.He moved to Beverly Hills here in California. His last words to me were that he'd never forgive me. I felt hopeless. I begged him-for us, for another chance-but he said I didn't deserve one.He called me a murderer. A wicked soul. So many things I still replay in my head. But none of it hurt more than what my mother said. She called me a monster. She said I didn't deserve to be called her daughter. Well... life goes on. I step out of the car and take in the camp. There's a church building-easy to spot because of the cross at the top. Three other buildings sit nearby with signs placed neatly on the pavement. The one next to the church reads: Counseling, Indoor Gym, Indoor Pool, Cafeteria, and Welfare. Interesting. The female hostel is a short walk from the counseling center, while the male hostel stands a little farther off in the distance. There are other buildings scattered around the camp, but I'll explore those later. I take a deep breath and head toward the receptionist.She has a dark, melanin-rich complexion, a healthy afro, and is dressed in a yellow T-shirt and black jeans that somehow look effortlessly stylish. A tag pinned neatly to the left side of her shirt reads: Ms. Chloe, FFSC Receptionist. "Are you done staring? Or should I give you a three-sixty? Oh-better yet, you could take a picture. I'm sure it'd last longer. My left side is my best angle, you should start from there." She stands up, striking different poses like a runway model. I laugh before I can stop myself, and she smiles. "Ahhh, I knew you'd look prettier with a smile," she says. "Thank you... I'm Alice," I introduce myself. "Chloe," she replies, gesturing to her tag. "Well, you can see that already. Welcome to Firm Foundation Summer Camp."Yay. Someone here is actually excited. "Thanks... I'm here for my room number and key," I say. "Right. Here you go," she replies, handing me a black key card with my room number printed on it. "Thanks again," I say before heading toward the lift. Honestly, for a camp, I expected tents in the wild or wooden cabins tucked into trees. Instead, it feels like I've checked into a hotel. The hallway is quiet, most campers still exploring the place. All I want right now is a long nap.When I finally reach my room, I swipe the key card and the door unlocks. Stepping inside, I realize it's not just a room-it has a living area, a dining space, and a balcony with a surprisingly beautiful view. Three additional doors lead to separate rooms, all spacious and empty. So I'll have housemates? Great. Just great. I wanted to be alone. Can this summer get any worse? I choose the room closest to the bathroom, drop my belongings near the edge of the bed, and collapse face-first onto it. This is going to be a long summer.

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