The first day he took her there, I couldn’t even get out of bed and the angel/demon said: “You’re not going there. You’re not going to the house of the Man of the Cross!” I didn’t understand what he meant by that but the truth is, I couldn’t even get out of bed because I was feeling so sick and weak.

I became angry as I watched my mother frequently attend church meetings. She started getting better. Then one day she stopped hearing the angel’s voice; she was delivered from his torment. “It’s a miracle”, she said.

On the other hand, my life was slowly deteriorating. I was extremely stubborn and refused to go to that church. The angel would hit me and say, “You’re not going over there!”

I lashed out on my mother several times and said: “Me? Go to that church, that church of thieves?” She would simply respond, “You’ll go, whether you like it or not. I know you will!”

I’d see her taking my pictures there and I’d say: “Mom, you’re making things worse by taking my pictures to that Brazilian church.” Seeing her go to church really irritated me, and I’d accompany her just to annoy her and the wicked angel would nag me the whole way there saying, “Don’t go in, you’re not going in there!” When we’d arrive, my mother would go inside and I’d stand at the church door screaming to the men inside: “You thieves, you Brazilian crooks, I’ll never go in there!” My poor mother was so embarrassed.

Even though this went on for about two or three years, my dear mother never gave up.

My mother was illiterate, so she’d ask me to write things down for her but I didn’t understand why. And me, with my wicked ways, would say, “Ok, give me the paper and tell me what you want me to write.” One of the things that I’ll never forget was when she said: “Write down exactly what I’m saying. Fatima will serve God.” She repeated, “Write it down. Remember that God is watching you!” It was torture for me to write that, so instead I wrote the following: “I will never serve her God!”

I was oblivious to the fact that this request was for a campaign of faith that my mom was participating in. My life was heading straight into a bottomless pit.

One morning in May of 1996 or ‘97, I woke up determined to end my life that day. I woke up feeling so much pain because the angel/demon had raped me again. I decided that it had to be today. I didn’t say a word to anyone.

I wrote my parents a letter and dropped off my son at their house. I told them that I had to run some errands and left.

I bought a lot of cocaine, gave my maid the day off and began my final walk into the pit. I was going to die.

I was forced into making this decision because I was the target of a demonic force. By now, l knew how evil this angel really was.

In my farewell to life (actually just to my life), I smoked and snorted all the cocaine I had bought. I got in my car with a little bit of left over coke and drove to ‘Cacilhas Point’, where several people I knew had thrown themselves off the cliff and died. The angel said these exact words: “Go, finish this. You’re lonely. You’re done, finished. You have nothing to live for! Go ahead, jump; throw yourself.” I just stood there looking down at the river and thinking to myself: “I’m going to jump as soon as I finish this coke. As soon as I snort the last row I’m going to throw myself off.”

At the same moment, I heard something different in my head, “You will know the truth and the truth will set you free.” I didn’t understand what that meant, I couldn’t concentrate; I just wanted to end my life.

In the farewell to a life without direction or value, I would be leaving behind my family, my son, my embarrassments and especially that evil angel.

My mind went blank.

I’m unable to explain exactly what happened to me. I just know that when I came to my senses, I was inside the church. I turned to a man and said: “What am I doing here? I hate you people!” He replied, “You came here on your own.”

I began crying uncontrollably. I thought the man standing before me was going to mistreat and judge me, but the exact opposite happened. Instead he listened to me and said: “There’s a way to put an end to your suffering.” I told him that I would do whatever he said.

Today, I know it was my mother’s prayers that brought me to the church and that God’s mercy brought me to the Lord. Not that I was deserving of anything but because God is merciful. He gave me an opportunity.

My battle against the angel was now beginning.

Notes

Within this book’s thirteen chapters, Sex with the Devil portrays the suffering of a woman that lasted for most of her life. Amid mistakes, sorrows, drugs, violence, and an abundance of bitterness and distress, a light at the end of the tunnel shone for her. She was rescued from a deep and seemingly bottomless pit.

At the end of this saga for the sake of true peace, you’ll find out how Maria de Fatima overcame this baffling game of terror and death.

In the last chapter of this dramatic story, we’ll learn what drove this troubled woman to finally achieve a new, happy life.