Good times

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"Religion  is the opium of the people" Carl Marx

Nina couldn't keep her eyes closed during the prayer,  she was too excited for what was yet to come. Thankfully everyone else's  were completely shut and wouldn't be opening for the next few seconds. She could get away with it. Her small self was holding hands with her father and twin sister, her brother hadn't been born yet. She still vaguely remembered how her legs wildly kicked under the and how tightly her and her sister's hair were strung up into aggressively pointing  ponytails. Her red small and loose sleeveless dress just barely holding onto her the top of her knees. Her mother's prayer was almost melodic with its fast - paced and continuous spanish.
She shut her eyes to the point of hurting before her family opened theirs in a state of naivety,  believing she could fool anyone with that cheap trick.
She now missed that innocence - knowing another moment like this would never happen again. She would never feel her mother pat her head or hear her  softly whisper "Mi chica" ever again and never again would she look up at the night sky and laugh freely. These were the last  good times.

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