Warnings: Talk of religion.
Blink.
Memories are a funny thing. One thing Mari could clearly remember from her youth, with their long red flora-print dress and sky blue cardigan and white sandals, was sitting on a pew beside their matching t̷w̷i̷n̷ friend and grandparents. And the stained glass of a woman, holding a baby, dressed in a red robe that was underneath a blue cloak.
N̴̢̞͔̣̜̠͕͎͒͗̈́̈̉̿̉̈͘ŏ̷̟̪̪͌͛̆͗̇ͅ,̵̢̡̢̗̙̳̣̳̞̃̊̓͌̿̃̊́͝ ̶̞̦̦̂̒͜Ì̵̢̲̟̻̯̞̫̪̈́͗̉̆́̄̕͜͝ ̶̧̰̥̥̬̫̥̋̈́͝ͅk̶̢̘̉̓͛͂̽̓͌͌̀͂ņ̴̟͓̬̮͌̀̀̎̃̐ò̷̢̡̬̰̬͍̻̱͎͚́͗̌̚w̸̱̣͙̤̣͇̰̐̌ ̴̹̰́͋͝w̷̢̛̝̞̞͋̇͐̑̌͝͝h̷͖̭͍͍̕͝ą̷̡̩͙͒̇̐̀̏̄̈́t̵̜̣̬͔̭̤̪̑͗̄̈́̎̊̾́ ̴̡̛͍̙̯̜̼͎̟̰̌̍̆̆̉̿̊͛̈́ḫ̵̨̭̥̬́͆͑͝ą̷̜̘͒̈́p̷̤̬̲͓̖̾̓̿̋̈́̈́p̶̳͚̑̂̄̚ȇ̴̺̹̔̍͗̏̄͝n̵̢̰̱̠̮̜̏̋͑̅̆̋̌́̚͠ě̵̩d̷͈̋͋͛́͌̏͘̚͘͝.̶̛͇̺̘͕̻̐̒͌͊͆̿̏́̕ Ṯ̷̘̗̬̞̭̗̤͛͜h̸̢̼̋̋̔͌̂̍ơ̸̧̖̗̪͚̱͓̬̼̓̋̒͜s̵̖͙̠͎̲̝̹͐̅̽̑̚ͅe̴̡̘̳͕̹̺͓͓͆̒̓̂̇̓̕͝ ̴̟̝̫͒̒̉̈́͒l̸̡̩̯̣̥̙͍̳̎ͅͅĩ̵̯̰̬̳̋̊̄͐̇͑̀̈́͘a̸͇͈̘̮̔͐̅̌͌̌͌̃͘͝r̶̡̛̺̞̰͈̮̮̿̿͒̀̕͠s̶̫͂̐͑͝͝.̸̢̞͇̯̹̜͚̥͒̄͛̉̑
The Virgin Mary. Beata Maria. Mother of God. Holy Mary. Just a few of many names to the mother of the supposed Jesus. A symbol of humility and motherly love. One of the saints the church would encourage to pray to if assistance was needed.
Perhaps the judgement of Mother Mary was the only judgement Mari didn't fear. As a young Mari knelt down, face towards the floor and hands in prayer in front of a statue of Santa Maria and the candle symbolizing her, all they felt was ease and the past anxiety somewhat lessen.
No contempt, rage or judgment. None in the eyes of statue. Mari didn't realize at the time, but now they know. They understood.
H̷a̷i̷l̷ ̷M̷a̷r̷y̷. B̷l̷e̷s̷s̷e̷d̷ ̷M̷a̷r̷i̷a̷,̷ ̷p̷l̷e̷a̷s̷e̷ ̷a̷n̷s̷w̷e̷r̷.̷
Mother of the Church, Mother Mary was refuge to them. As Mari grew, the more they sought out Blessed Maria in times of trouble. She was mother to them. Maybe that's why Marina prayed to her even though it was discouraged by her grandmother.
I̷ ̷k̷n̷o̷w̷ ̷s̷h̷e̷'̷s̷ ̷o̷u̷t̷ ̷t̷h̷e̷r̷e̷
P̷l̷e̷a̷s̷e̷ ̷t̷e̷l̷l̷ ̷u̷s̷,̷ ̷M̷a̷r̷i̷a̷.̷ ̷G̷l̷o̷r̷i̷a̷'̷s̷ ̷d̷e̷a̷t̷h̷ ̷i̷s̷ ̷j̷u̷s̷t̷i̷f̷i̷e̷d̷.̷
Who knew where their mother by blood actually is? Or who she was. Only Grandmother was able to give a description, but even that seemed to blur between mother and mother. Maybe, Carla, or "that whore" as her grandmother put it, was actually their mother. No, maybe it was someone else. Someone close to her.
Her twin probably knows. No, she definitely knows. And now, Marina knows. Memories are strange.
H̷e̷l̷p̷ ̷u̷s̷ ̷f̷i̷n̷d̷ ̷e̷a̷c̷h̷o̷t̷h̷e̷r̷.̷ ̷A̷i̷d̷ ̷u̷s̷ ̷o̷n̷ ̷o̷u̷r̷ ̷p̷a̷t̷h̷ ̷t̷o̷ ̷e̷v̷e̷n̷ ̷t̷h̷e̷ ̷s̷c̷o̷r̷e̷.̷
Now that Marina knows, she'd join her twin. Once she and her twin found eachother, it was over for him. They'd make him suffer. More than Gloria's mom, who was too stupid to see the resemblance between them and their mother and her ancestors.
Yes, she'd make sure he'd suffer.
I̷͈̘̾͘t̷̰̜͇̞̊́̂̂͘'̴̜̰̲̜̻̭̫̣̻̓̄̿́̕͠s̸̳̬̻̤͉͍̩̰̈́̓̔͌͊́͑́́̅ͅ ̴̤̱̿͛̑̆͝ǫ̷̣͎̮̮̖̺̹͆͂̍̂̐̏̚͝ͅͅv̴͓͙͎̙̼͖͔̈̊͑̀͝e̴̪̲͙͍̙͔̤͊̑͒͜ṟ̷̢̲̯̜̘̙͋̀̌̈́̉͊̓͝ ̸̛͇̆̓͒̍͛̂͆f̶̢̛̮̱̏̓̎̍̋̈́͝͝ò̸͖͌͗̍̊̌͠͝͝r̷̙̼̺̟͍̱̻̱͛̈͜ ̵̣̍̈́͋ͅy̴̛̺̜̲͕̯͌́̈́̈̂͠͝ͅȍ̵̳̬͙̺͂ú̴͓͇̖͇̥̲͗̆̀.̸̘̰̤͍̞̗̝̱̀ ̶̨͇͓̬͎̣̭̯͉̙̅̅̑̉̒̍̿͂̅̚Y̶͚̯̲̥͒́̆́͊̈́͜ȯ̴̠͔̝͆̚͝ự̵̜͔͔̯̖͕̂̓̂̈͑̒ ̷̫̭̹̭̣̖̓͗̑̈́̏́͑̒̾͊͜ṕ̴̡̘̟͉̟r̷̨̛̫̱̼̽̏̏̽̈́̌̏͝o̴͔̯̻̯̟̱̠̣̍͊b̴̢͈͙͇̲̺͎͔̀͂̄̍́̇̂̕͘̚a̵̖͖͇̥͎͚͍̙͎͆͆̓̚̚̚b̴̨̮͈̤̙̥̋̆̿̀̌̅͠ͅĺ̴̞̞͎̇̌͗͑́͜ÿ̸͉̩͕̿̎ͅ ̷̢̻̬̩͍̈́͋̀̉d̷̹̮̝̤̣͛͗̔͠͝ͅǫ̵̜̱̙̙̜̦̭̈́̿̾̈́̃̈́̋̃̕n̶͔̼̠̞͙͍̻̱͊͌̍̍̚̚ͅ'̸̝̗́ẗ̵̢̛̙͔̫̼̟͈̣̙͂͌̀̉̕͝͠ ̵̱̣̫͙͚̙̱̞̌e̴̡̗̬̞̟̘̤̞̝̙̒̅̀́̇̓͛̇͐͊v̶̛̦̮̖̝͚͉̬͗̀̾̽̿̊̋̈́̕e̷͈̫͉͙̦͗̌̋̋̿͐̀̆͋̓͜͜ñ̶̥̝̫̩͎̯͔̞̂̓̀͐͑͊ ̷͎̙̙͖̤̯̲͍̣͐͛̈́̎̔͠ͅṛ̶̢̛̟̖̯͑̈́ḙ̸͛ä̷͈̜́͋͐̌̕ͅĺ̶̡̡̧̡͔͈̪̮̘͍̾̎̐̑͒͊͂̍̽ḯ̴̧͚͕̝̠̯̰ͅż̴̨̪̺͓̹͔͎̜̉̇̀̐̋͜é̴͚ ̵̩̭̩̼̳̟͖̫̮̙͂̽̐̏͝͝͠í̸̙͚̠̮͔̪̞͜ẗ̶̡̛̗̮̙͙̯̜̳͙͇̃́̓̒͝.̶̧̡̗̦͎̄̀͑͆̄͜ ̵̛̤̲̮̟̫̇͋̋́̈͂͌Ĝ̷̥̌̎͗̏͜͝͝ö̵̖̤̠̠͗͂̌͝͝ȯ̷̖͈̞͖͈̲̓̀̑ḑ̸̖̜͉̦̥̭͖̃̓̉̾͑,̶̨̘͔̖̗̟̯̝͂́̂ ̵̜̜̽̿̋̉̇̏̿͝ͅw̷̡̧̡̺̬̲͔͓̔̂̐̋̍͘̚͠e̵̼͚̯͍̯̟̪̺̠̾̑́̈́̂͋'̶̧̹̹̺̬̗̳̾̋̔̊̌̎̌͜l̸̨̢̪͍̩̖̍͐͂̋̃̓̕ͅl̵͎͈̣̦̟͖̻͗̈́̔̔̉ ̴̢͓͎̻͍̞̭̆͗͑͒̏͝s̵̘̣̪̫̏̌̋l̶̛̼̜̻̤̱͚̫͔̱̻̿̂̀o̵̖̓̅̈́͑̅w̷͕̖͙̺̭̐̈́̉̐̀ͅĺ̵͍̖̰̫̙͉̗͕͉̃̐̋̏̾̾̓̑̾y̷̢̢̢̹̥̮̗͓̘̦͒̿̽̀̄͗ ̷̛͕̿̾̾̏̓r̷̡͕̪̘̼̩͚̊̉͆̀͝i̷͓̥̱̊͊́͗͝p̷̢͕̮̣̭̖̜̞̯͊́̒͆̕̕ ̵̧̢̛̬̦̳̳̝̲̓͑̂̿̽͜͝͝a̸̡̧̛͍̻̥͇̭̝͘ͅw̷̥̼̐̃̏͌ą̶̘͚̘̺̺̱͚͓̜̓̒̈́͒̽̀͒͊ỹ̵̨̭͈̰͚̓̈̑̇̅̈́͆̇ ̴̙̼͎̮̼̦̩̂͋̽͝e̴̯͖͛̾̽̾̉̑̓v̴̥̺̼̏̎̀́̅͠e̸̦͈͙͍̘̙͒̊̔́͠r̴̡͚͍̒͊̉͊̋̐͜y̷̰̺͇̹͇̝͗̊͂͋͌͋͗̐̍t̸̜̖̖̦̩̬̙̝̿͋͊͠h̵̖̽̐í̴̙͐̉̐̽͛́͘ṇ̶̢̠̖̦̹͉̱͜͝g̶̨͕͍͚͖̞̎͒͌͛̓̚͝ ̷̧̣̩̹͖͑̐͑̅̀͛ͅf̸̻̳̙̯̻̰̠̼̐̍̑̈́̃̏͂̋̇͜͝r̵̨̖̍̕ö̶̫̗̣́͆̊ͅm̸̡̡̱̥͔͇͉̾̅̐͜ͅͅ ̴̢̛͉͓͙͔̩͖̻͚̒̃͋́͆͝͠y̵̗̩̩̲̤̘̞͎̪̝̌̇̽͛͗̇͌̓͝o̵̙̝͈͙̺̮̣̽̓͗̄͂̑̐̃̚͜ư̷̤̻͚̈̈́͆͗͜͝.̶̢̨̲̲͔͇̭͙̀̀͂̇̒̉ͅ
P̷r̷a̷y̷ ̷f̷o̷r̷ ̷u̷s̷ ̷s̷i̷n̷n̷e̷r̷s̷ ̷n̷o̷w̷,̷ ̷a̷n̷d̷ ̷t̷h̷e̷ ̷h̷o̷u̷r̷ ̷o̷f̷ ̷o̷u̷r̷ ̷d̷e̷a̷t̷h̷.̷ ̷A̷m̷e̷n̷.̷