I trusted stained-glass illusions, empty pill bottles, and song titles that sang of salvation. Raised on fabricated delicacy, I missed the morning’s breath and the birds’ indifference. Sunlight turned sterile, and we taught the earth to flinch. At seventeen, we fled—no plan, no map—just stolen wheels and roads that stared back. We looted identity, cried to a sleeping God beneath concrete, while screens broadcast our confusion in perfect clarity.

Family members are pointing fingers at the police, claiming they are involved, but law enforcement vehemently denies any wrongdoing. Police

Thomson revealed that his mother was compelled to reside with the deceased reverend from a tender age as her own parents were unable to care

The red man lights up (crosswalk lights), we come to a halt, and the cars begin to move again, but one massive truck was catching up to the

The Book of Ruth is a beautiful example of how God can take a hopeless situation and turn it into something glorious.