My Story


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July 3, 2013 – March 28, 2014

Testimony (Bernensky Pierre)

It was Wednesday, July 3rd, 2013 and it was 2 in the morning. Doorbell rang, I answered, and I got the news that my father passed. For weeks, I was oppressed and did nothing about it. I sat in the dark and cried alone every day I woke up. Soon I thought I got over it and believed I was back on my two feet, but I really wasn’t (Occasionally depressed and discourage). Now since my father passed away, I really didn’t have anyone to talk to. I didn’t like talking to my mom about certain situations because I needed a man’s perspective on things. My brother was young and we didn’t talk about anything serious, so I replaced my father with lustful conversations. I thought this would be harmless, but it soon got out of hand. Lustful conversations turned into a desire for intercourse (Fornication). I believed this would help me get through the pain and grief of my father, but the pain only increased like water during a flood. I was looking for the solution through girls to fill a void, a space, which expanded as wide as a tropical rainforest. The void was love.

I recognized that this was a problem and did my best to stay away from fornication. I did my best, but my best wasn’t good enough like a good competitor against an unstoppable force. I felt like I was fighting something that I was never going to defeat. I always found myself committing the deed or resorting to the second option (masturbation). It was a sensation that only lasted a few minutes and it only assisted the pain, thoughts, and scars that came after my father’s death. I didn’t know why this was happening, it was hard to explain. I always had a thing for girls, but not like this. Every second and every minute I was thinking of how I was going to receive the pleasure that would never fill me up. This desire was after my well-being like a cheetah preying on baby calf. This was an addiction, I needed help like a patient having trouble to breath. I continued to fight those nagging thoughts that said, “Call her back, she’s willing to give it up”, but those thoughts were too overwhelming. The images in my head were even worse, pornography. Sometimes, I went long stretches where I found myself free, but I really wasn’t. The girls I was dealing with were just like me, no father. My mind soon became accustom to that sin and I always felt guilty because it was one thing for me to know that I was going to hell for what I was doing, but to also realize that I was bringing someone along with me.

I went days struggling with this situation, until my childhood friend, Jacques, told me to come to a House of Peace in North Miami in October of 2013. He invited me before, but I always canceled on him. I wanted to go because he made it sound interesting. I also had the problem that was kicking my butt every day, so I decided to go. I went and there I saw teenagers, just like me. He told me that this was a place where teenagers and young adults come together and pray and worship God. I got there early and nothing was happening because it didn’t start. I had Goosebumps because I didn’t know what to expect. Suddenly, they turned off all the lights, and then I heard music that I had never heard before. I drifted to a corner and I watched these teenagers cry out to God. They were crying, begging, and pleading to him, asking him to forgive them. I prayed for my situation before, but not like that. I usually gave God five minutes a day. This was for an hour and thirty minutes. I soon felt comfortable because I wasn’t the only one that had a problem. Everyone had a problem, but unlike me they brought it before God. I said to myself, “I want to be like them.” That night I prayed the longest of my life. I told myself, “No more playing around, it’s time to change.” After that night, I thought everything was going to change like a full transformation. I prayed every day after that, but found myself committing the deed again. I soon became discourage and had a thought that said, “I don’t deserve God and I shouldn’t pray because what’s the point when I’m going to do the wrong things anyway.” I stopped praying for myself and prayed for others that I thought were better than me. I lost hope and I quit, taking my life back into the shadows of depression.

Sometimes, I went to the House of Peace in North Miami, but I was never really in to it. I just lost belief in myself, but Jacques continued to communicate with me. One day, he told me that there was another House of Peace in Coconut Grove; this time it was a rented place. He told me this would be more epic than the one in North Miami and indeed it was. It was March 27, 2014 and there I saw a few people dancing, others in the corner praying. It was as if they were in a other world, another place, while they were dancing and praying. Their eyes were firmly shut as they moved to the rhythm of the songs that were being played. These people were so into it. I started to think about what I’ve been through throughout my life, the good and the bad. I was thinking about what was cool and what was not. I asked myself, “Why can’t I be like these people? They want to do good, but I struggle with the term.” As I thought about my life in the past, the lights were opened and it was time for the word, but first all new comers had to come up for prayer. I went up and they took all the new comers outside and they prayed for us. Before they prayed, there was this girl that told her testimony. She said she had cancer and as soon as those words came out of her mouth there was a pain that struck me in my heart. Meanwhile, she continued to explain how it disappeared because of God. One night, she came to this House of Peace. She wasn’t a believer, but when they were praying for her she felt a fire inside of her. Couple of days later, she went to the doctor and they were astounded when they gave her the news that her cancer was gone. When she initiated the story with “I had cancer” I almost started to cry like all those days I was in my dark room crying over my father’s death because my father died of cancer. That testimony made me believe again and I thought if God can do that for her than he can turn my problems into cake. All of sudden, I had a desire to be with God and the next day I confirmed it at King Jesus Ministries on March 28, 2014.

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The Club by Bernensky Pierre

“I don’t want to go,” I said.

“Why won’t you just go to your prom?” Jenn replied. “You’ve been there for all four years and your parents already paid for it.”

“Jenn, I didn’t tell my parents to pay for it. That’s their fault,” I said. “I envisioned myself going to prom with the people I grew up with as a kid, not with a bunch of people I knew for a couple of years. I never wanted to go to this school, so why should I go to prom? Instead, I’m going to Miramar high school’s after party at the club.”

“Really?” replied Jenn. “You’re going to waste your parents’ money?”

“Yeah,” I said. I looked at my watch. “I have to go. Bye.”

The time had come. Eight o’clock. I got ready to head out. I opened the closet and ransacked through, trying to find the perfect outfit. I dressed in black and blue, a deep blue sky jean jacket with a long eerie black sleeve shirt beneath it. The pants were long black skinny jeans and the shoes were the same color as the outfit. I stood still, gazing into the mirror, looking for any wrongs.

I informed my parents that I was going to a party, feeling confident that it was going to be a great night. I made my way out and looked into the opaque skies and stood there, letting the stiff breeze slap me in the face. Mesmerized, I snapped out of it and entered into my slate gray 1996 Acura. I peeled out of the driveway and headed for my friend’s house. I arrived at his house. He opened the door and I strolled in, ready to dismantle him in video games. After engaging in small talk and video games until midnight, we went our separate ways.

I found myself at Burger King in the drive-thru near my house on Northeast 167th Street across from the McDonalds. My friend was eager to go and wanted no delays, so I told him to meet me there. I received my food and parked my car in the parking lot, savoring a double whooper and fries. Moments passed and I realized time was flying by. It was nearing half past midnight before heading to Broward County, so I began to drive. After driving forty minutes, I felt apprehensive. I didn’t know where I was going. Suddenly, I made a turn and found myself in a mist of darkness. The car lights were the only source of light. I kept driving only to realize I was totally lost. I started to panic.

“I’m lost,” I uttered. Then, up ahead, I spotted something that seemed to be the destination. I saw lights, and just past it, the club.

I parked near a light post and got out of my car. I heard the incessant music thumping. It was one AM and I called my friend, but there was no signal. As I walked towards the entrance, I spotted a beautiful girl. She was wearing a black tight small high neck dress. She had long ebony hair, terra cotta cheeks, violet lipstick, but her eyes were beyond description. When I got within arm’s length of the door, she spoke.

“Hey, can I be with you tonight?”

I did my best to act cool. “Okay, no problem.”

I smiled; she did the same with her dimpled cheeks. She took my hand and led the way into the club. We stood there, motionless. She was in awe, but I felt something was strange. I didn’t recognize anyone that went to Miramar high school or my friend. A rush of doubtful thoughts hit me squarely in my head.

“I’m at the wrong place,” I said.

I felt uneasy, but she again took my hand, a firm grip, and led me to the center of where everyone was dancing. She ignited the smile that I had when we were talking at the entrance. We both headed for the middle of the crowded dance floor. We danced for hours. I finally stop; I was exhausted, but she was still high-energy.

“Let’s take a break,” I said. She headed away from the middle of the crowded dance floor to the bar to get something to drink.

I stood in the midst of the club, still searching for my friend or anyone I might recognize. I turned myself to the entrance and pulled out my phone. It was 2:59. Suddenly, at the strike of three AM, everything and everyone vanished. The dance floor, the ceiling, the people, and the bar — were all gone.

Startled, I spun around in place wondering what the hell was happening. I found myself outside in a graveyard. I stood there, my heart exploding with pulsating heartbeats. Then, I heard the girl’s voice behind me. I turned. Her eyes were clear and haunting.

“I wish you were dead because we would have never stopped,” she uttered. She abruptly turned around and walked deep into the graveyard until her figure faded into the darkness.

My heart sank in an ocean of terror. I turned back around, shivering. Suddenly, I spotted the familiar light post hovering over my parked car. I ran to it with such legerity and got in. Her haunting words continued to resonate in my head as I sped off.


May 2013