The Deflowered Garden Read online

  THE DEFLOWERED

  GARDEN

  THE DEFLOWERED

  GARDEN

  Tanya South

  © 2018 Tanya South

  The Deflowered Garden

  All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, scanning, or other—except for brief quotations in critical reviews or articles, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

  Published in Nashville, Tennessee, by Elm Hill, an imprint of Thomas Nelson. Elm Hill and Thomas Nelson are registered trademarks of HarperCollins Christian Publishing, Inc.

  Elm Hill titles may be purchased in bulk for educational, business, fund-raising, or sales promotional use. For information, please e-mail [email protected].

  Publisher’s Note: This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. All characters are fictional, and any similarity to people living or dead is purely coincidental.

  All Scripture quotations, unless otherwise indicated, are taken from the Holy Bible, New International Version®, NIV®. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.® Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved worldwide. www.Zondervan.com. The “NIV” and “New International Version” are trademarks registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office by Biblica, Inc.®

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2018963709

  ISBN 978-0-310103554 (Paperback)

  ISBN 978-0-310103851 (Hardbound)

  ISBN 978-0-310103691 (eBook)

  Information about External Hyperlinks in this ebook

  Please note that footnotes in this ebook may contain hyperlinks to external websites as part of bibliographic citations. These hyperlinks have not been activated by the publisher, who cannot verify the accuracy of these links beyond the date of publication.

  DEDICATED TO THE LOST SHEEP

  Matthew 18:12–13, NIV

  “What do you think? If a man owns a hundred sheep, and one of them wanders away, will he not leave the ninety-nine on the hills and go to look for the one that wandered off? And if he finds it, truly I tell you, he is happier about that one sheep than about the ninety-nine that did not wander off.

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Dedicated to the Lost Sheep

  Prologue

  CHAPTER 1Interrupted Garden

  CHAPTER 2Let Me Introduce You to Fear

  CHAPTER 3The Monster in the Garden

  CHAPTER 4Cursed Summer

  CHAPTER 5The Night My Soul Died

  CHAPTER 6Bad Habits

  CHAPTER 7New Monsters

  CHAPTER 8Damaged Goods

  CHAPTER 9Runaway From Life

  CHAPTER 10Trafficked

  CHAPTER 11A Tree of Life

  CHAPTER 12Secrets

  CHAPTER 13Chained

  CHAPTER 14Silence Isn’t Golden

  CHAPTER 15Truth Be Told

  CHAPTER 16Coming to Light

  CHAPTER 17Thorn in My Side

  CHAPTER 18Lost Girl

  CHAPTER 19The Truth Hurts

  CHAPTER 20Departed

  CHAPTER 21Freed Butterflies

  Epilogue

  A Note from the Author

  PROLOGUE

  The Beauty in the Garden

  De-flow-er: [dih-flou-er]: to steal or violently remove beauty, freshness, sanctity, or purity.

  Genesis 1:31 – God saw all that he had made, and it was very good.

  As my paintbrush carefully touched the beautiful white canvas, my imagination was running wild. I saw an intriguing, astonishing garden coming to life. The gardener meticulously designed every intricate detail of it; from cultivating the rich, fertilized soil, to planting and sowing each seed. Every flower had been planted with careful thought. The gardener then watered and nurtured what he had planted. As a result of his gardening and watching over the garden, it reaped its lovely flowers. The garden stimulated my senses. I could see the beauty, I could touch and feel the texture of each flower, and I could smell the sweet, distinct fragrances of each one. I could even taste the succulent nectar of a particular flower. I saw what this garden produced. It’s beautiful, the blossomed and even the budding flowers. The unique, sacred, and lovely quality that each one held was most fascinating to me. The array of alluring colors was sparkling from each distinct blooming flower, while resting on a deep-green bed of grass. Humanity is also that of a delightful garden. Each human being, each woman, each man, is the unique flower that first started out as a seed. Our Heavenly Father, God, is the gardener and creator, who made each of us uniquely magnificent in our own way. But like weeds, the devil takes what is purely beautiful and attempts to pervert it. His mission is to kill, steal, and destroy the purity in the garden. He tried to destroy it with his lies and deception. He attempted to taint the image of what was fearfully and wonderfully made; he twisted the truth and turned it into shame. He deflowered the garden; he deflowered Adam and Eve. When Eve believed the lie that the devil whispered to her and then baited Adam in, sin entered into the garden, into the world. I believed that lie, too, for many years, living in shame, living with the evil that had been done to me in secret. For a long time, I didn’t believe that I was good enough. But God sees otherwise. When he created us, he knew his creation was very good. In the Bible, it says in John 8:12: “When Jesus spoke again to the people, he said, ‘I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness, but will have the light of life.’” What’s in darkness will always be exposed with the light. What the devil used to harm you, shame you, break you shall be exposed to the truth, and the truth shall set you free! The truth that because of what Jesus did on the cross, we are forgiven, redeemed, and worthy.

  CHAPTER ONE

  INTERRUPTED GARDEN

  GENESIS 3:1–7

  Now the serpent was more crafty than any of the wild animals the Lord God had made. He said to the woman, “Did God really say, ‘You must not eat from any tree in the garden’?” The woman said to the serpent, “We may eat fruit from the trees in the garden, but God did say, ‘You must not eat fruit from the tree that is in the middle of the garden, and you must not touch it, or you will die. You will not certainly die,” the serpent said to the woman, For God knows that when you eat from it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil.” When the woman saw that the fruit of the tree was good for food and pleasing to the eye, and also desirable for gaining wisdom, she took some and ate it. She also gave some to her husband, who was with her, and he ate it. Then the eyes of both of them were opened, and they realized they were naked; so they sewed fig leaves together and made coverings for themselves.

  Damaged goods, defiled, devalued, broken, used, not good enough, overlooked, unworthy, forgotten, lost, invisible, unseen, stained, tainted, unimportant, rejected, ashamed, hidden, a zero, unloved; God doesn’t love me. God is mad at me. Where are you, God? Why didn’t you stop this from happening to me? Why didn’t you protect me? You are the all-powerful, all-knowing God. Didn’t you know this would happen? I remember when I told and asked myself these things, over and over again. I grew up believing in and praying to God, yet the devil’s whispers shouted, overpowering God’s voice to me. I think back at being the tender age of only four years old. I remember that happy little girl playing with her dolls, playing at the park, Mommy and Daddy doing all the right things to protect me. We were always just happy with the simple things in life. Until all of that happiness and innocence had been snatched away from me. Let me take you back to a very long tim
e ago…

  It was a pleasant Friday morning. Daddy had taken that day off from work. Mom helped me get dressed. I wore a lovely red-and-white dress with frilly white ankle socks and black patent-leather Mary-Jane style shoes. That day was my first preschool play. We were so excited. Daddy wore a dress jacket, dress shirt, and nice slacks. You would think he was going to a big important event, like a wedding or something. But indeed, for Mom and Dad, this was an important event. My very first play, ever. I had memorized all of the words to “I’m a Little Teapot.” How proud I was to know all of the words to that song. What a sense of accomplishment for me. Mom and Dad were sitting in the front row of the classroom. Mom’s eyes watered with gleam and Daddy’s smile went from ear to ear, his camera ready in his hand. My classmates and I wore little teapot costumes that we made out of big cardboard, and we painted pastel-colored little faces on them. The best part of preparing for the play was painting the teapot faces. After all, I loved painting and Mom said I was the artist in our family. After weeks of practice and preparation, the performance had been over just like that. Me and my group of preschool friends stood in front of a bunch of clapping, whistling, and proud parents. Camera flashes blinded us. It was such a good morning. Little did I know that it would be one of the last moments of pure joy before evil suddenly introduced itself to me. It was an evil that would take residence into my undefiled life.

  “Natasha, you were really good, Honey. I’m so proud of you,” Daddy said as he picked me up and hugged me tight.

  I smiled shyly as I held onto him tightly, too.

  “We have a little surprise for you,” Mom said.

  “What is it?”

  “Take a guess,” Daddy said.

  “You got me a Snickers bar?”

  “No,” laughed Mom.

  “We are going to take you to your favorite place to eat,” Daddy said with a smile.

  “Yay! Mama’s Little Italy?” I yelped.

  “Yes! And you can order whatever you want, Sweetheart.”

  I could taste those chocolate chip cannolis. It was like they had just told me I was going to Disney.

  “Auntie Lucy and Uncle Joseph are also visiting later on.”

  “And my cousins, too?” I asked.

  “Of course silly. Joe Jr. and Lisa are both coming.”

  This day had been close to perfect. And it hadn’t been over just yet. I couldn’t wait for my cousins to come visit. I’m an only child, so my cousins were the next best thing to having a brother and sister. My cousin Lisa was a year younger than me. We were very close, like sisters. My cousin Joe Jr. was sixteen, almost seventeen years old. Joe loved to prank people. He was what everyone called “the bad kid.” I just thought that’s how older boy cousins were supposed to be. He didn’t faze me.

  Early evening had then arrived. The sun’s face was a deep mandarin-orange color with pink clouds hiding behind it. I watched it slowly settling down from my bedroom window. Then I heard the doorbell.

  “Mommy, Mommy, I think they’re here!”

  Daddy opened the door, and Lisa bolted toward me and we wrapped our arms around each other.

  “Let’s go play tea time!” Lisa smiled.We didn’t waste any time. We scurried away quickly into to my bedroom. I could smell the yummy food lingering in the halls. Mom prepared the breaded chicken cutlets and had just added the fresh mozzarella and homemade sauce on top. Chicken parmigiana was Dad’s favorite.

  I had a knack for being able to pay attention to my surroundings while busy doing something else. I could hear the laughter of my parents, auntie, and uncle from the kitchen. The evening was perfect. Then my bedroom door creaked as it slowly opened.

  “Hey!” Joe shouted and then laughed obnoxiously. “What are you two brats doing?”

  “We are having a tea party,” I said.“Yeah, we are having a tea party. Do you want some tea, Joe?” Lisa asked in her babyish voice.

  “Tea? There is no tea in there. What kind of boring game is this?” Joe said.

  Tears welled up in Lisa’s eyes, and she suddenly ran out, crying. “Daddy, Joe is being mean again.”

  Joe just laughed, without a care in the world.

  “Joe!” Uncle Joseph yelled. “What did you do now?”

  “I didn’t do anything. I’m just joking around with them.”

  I just dismissed the whole thing. I figured, even in my little four-year-old mind, that Lisa was only still a baby, and maybe she just needed to sleep. After all, she was only three years old. I consoled her and we continued to play. After some time later, Little Lisa fell asleep on my bed.

  I started feeling a little sleepy myself, so I laid next to her and dozed off. It didn’t seem that I had been asleep that long, when I felt something weird. Was I dreaming? But then the feeling became more profound. As my eyes lazily opened, I could see that Joe was sitting at the edge of my bed. His hand had a tight grip on my inner thigh. It kind of hurt.

  “Argh!” I screamed.

  “Shhhh! Be quiet,” Joe whispered, placing his hand over my mouth.

  “Nooo!”

  Lisa woke up crying hysterically. My happy room, which had been filled with laughter earlier, suddenly became a room of fear.

  The door swiftly opened.

  “What’s going on? What’s wrong, Honey?” Mom asked worriedly.

  “Ummm, I’m sorry. The girls were sleeping. I guess Natasha saw my shadow and got scared,” Joe explained.

  “Is that what happened, Baby? Are you, okay?” Mom asked again.

  “Ah, yes, Mommy,” I said, confused.

  At this point, the only thing that made sense in my little mind was that I had a nightmare.

  Auntie Lucy rushed in. “What did you do, Joe?”

  “Why do you think I did anything, Mom? Nothing! I did nothing!” Joe argued.

  Auntie Lucy quickly picked up Lisa and embraced her. “I think we better get going. It’s getting late,” she said.Little Lisa’s head rested on my auntie’s shoulder. Mom followed them out.

  Joe followed behind my mom. He turned around and locked eyes with me as he smirked, and rested his forefinger on the top of his lips. “Shhhhhhh.” Then he walked out.

  Still confused about what just happened, I laid down on my bed wide awake. I tried to replay it in my mind. After much thinking, I reasoned with myself that I had dreamed the whole thing. After all, my cousin Joe had always been annoying, and maybe that’s why I dreamed that he was trying to hurt me.

  CHAPTER TWO

  LET ME INTRODUCE YOU TO FEAR

  PROVERBS 4:16–18

  For they cannot rest until they do evil; they are robbed of sleep till they make someone stumble.

  They eat the bread of wickedness and drink the wine of violence. The path of the righteous is like the morning sun, shining ever brighter till the full light of day.

  The dreary clouds danced in the sky; behind them hid the hazy sun. The windows perspired with condensation. It had been a few days since we’d seen my auntie and uncle. It was unusual, especially for Auntie Lucy, because she’d always stop by to visit Mom. They only lived about five minutes away and both had a close-sister bond. Mom and Auntie Lucy are Irish twins, only eleven months apart. Some people believed they were really identical twins because they looked so much alike. Both of them have light-brown, curly hair with natural highlight streaks, hazel eyes, and light-brown skin complexion. They were a mix between my grandpa and Nana. Nana was a beautiful African-American woman with bright green eyes and Grandpa, a handsome Puerto Rican man with coffee-brown eyes. Quite often, when I walk with Dad anywhere, they’d ask him who I belonged to. Daddy would laugh each time. I’m guessing because Dad is Irish with blue eyes. I am a mini version of Mom, though, and I felt lucky to have Nana’s green eyes, too. Daddy always said I would never have a boyfriend. Otherwise, they’d have to go through him. Ha! He had always been so protective of me.

  Later that Wednesday afternoon, there was a loud knock on the door. Mom quickly walked toward the door, hoping it wa
s Auntie Lucy.

  Mom looked surprised. “Hey! Joe. How’s it going, Sweetheart? Where are your mom and Lisa?”

  “She took Lisa for a follow up to the pediatrician. She had some sort of rash on one side of her face,” Joe replied. “And Dad is still at work.”

  “Oh no, what sort of rash?”

  “Mom seems to think it’s some kind of allergic reaction. She sent me over here and asked if I can wait here until she’s done and that she’ll be right over after the appointment.”

  “Of course you can. No wonder I haven’t seen her. I’m cooking my famous garlic mashed potatoes, corn on the cob, collard greens, and Uncle Phillip is grilling some steaks. I’ve been calling your mom the last couple of days, and no answer.”

  “Something was wrong with our phone. But it’s fixed now,” Joe explained.“Hey, since you’re here, is it okay if you stay here for a few minutes with Natasha?”

  “Sure, Auntie,” Joe quickly replied.

  “I’m going to run out and buy a couple more steaks since I know you guys are staying over for dinner tonight. I’ll be right back.”

  “No problem, Auntie Lorraine.”

  I just continued painting. Mom bought me a few canvases and a cool new palette of paint. Since I had just started painting the magical garden, while overhearing Mom and Joe’s conversation, I decided that I would add a little girl in the garden that represented Little Lisa. I wanted to paint something that would cheer her up. I got lost in the painting. I envisioned Little Lisa running across the beautiful forest-green lawn toward the colorful, magical garden. The garden had the most exotic flowers in it. Flowers that I don’t think even existed in real life. There were neon-pink peonies that were treelike in size and iridescent white orchids with swirls of bright purple streaks. The orchids looked like jumbo umbrellas.

  In the garden, there were also oversized fruit. Beautiful fruit! Giant cherry-red apples and tall cucumbers surrounded by sunshine-yellow tulips. It was a garden wonderland. My imagination continued to run wild. I wanted to live in this wondrous, bright, and fruitful garden. Abruptly, a monstrous thick, black cloud slowly began hovering over the garden with the little girl in it. Joe walked up right beside me and pushed me slightly.