Page 47 of White Room Virgin

A little later, wrapped up in warm layers, I ventured out into the cold and ran along the river to the lake and then back toward the university. The exercise did me good, and the pain in my back gradually subsided. An icy wind hit my face as the drizzle grew heavier. I rushed through the city like a madman, but I couldn’t shake off the memories.

What had gotten into me? Why had I let it get this far in the first place? The Bible spoke of abominations! And I, me, had committed it! It was a disgrace! I was a disgrace! I had never sinned so much in my life. I had violated all my principles. I couldn’t even afford to go to confession now—that wouldn’t absolve me of my misdeeds. And not even Simon’s theory could reassure me, because what I had done was an act against the laws of nature.

What I did to Lucien … what I let him do to my body … and I enjoyed it … and I still felt him inside me…

My first time!

Feeling sick, I leaned against a streetlamp, bent over, and threw up. My stomach muscles contracted painfully, and my knees were weak. I stood there, breathing heavily, holding onto the lamppost and watching saliva drip from my mouth in a long string.

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught sight of a person. Turning my head slightly, I saw an older gentleman strolling with a dachshund on a leash.

“Is everything all right, young man?”

“No!” I cried, hitting the lamppost hard. “Nothing is all right!”

The man scowled and motioned for his dog to move forward. I gazed up at the dark, despairing sky and drew in a deepbreath. Thick drops of rain pattered against my face. They felt like ice water. My head was burning with heat. I realized that only I could fix it. I had no choice but to free myself from these shameful feelings and unnatural urges and become a better person.

I returned home completely soaked and went straight to Lucien’s room. He sat on the floor in sweatpants and a white shirt, drawing with chalk on a pad.

“Did you go running?” he asked incredulously.

My whole body was shaking, and my teeth were chattering. “I … can’t do that,” I stuttered with difficulty. “I-it’s n-not natural.”

Lucien put the drawing pad down and stood up. “You need to warm up.”

“No!” I shouted and backed away. “I-it was a mistake!”

Lucien came to a sudden stop and furrowed his brows in irritation. His look hurt me like a knife, but I had to stand firm. “How could I have let that happen? I … will never forgive myself for that!”

“Don’t do this to yourself,” he said, his voice tinged with concern. “You liked it, didn’t you?”

“How could you do this to me? Why did you seduce me? You knew … Everything was fine before!”

He looked at me in dismay. “You don’t mean that. Calm down first.”

“I am calm!” I snapped at him. “And dirty! I can never clear myself of this!”

“Of this?” Lucien faltered, and his voice sounded strained. “Of … me?”

My jaw dropped and I took a deep breath. It hadn’t been my intention to hurt him. His life choices were his own and deserving of respect. In some respects, I even admired him for them. However, that lifestyle wasn’t for me.

Lucien stepped closer and touched my arm. “Jonah, you are choosing something that doesn’t exist.”

“How dare you?” I shouted angrily and pushed him away from me. “What do you want from me anyway?”

Lucien stumbled back two steps before regaining his footing. He stared at me with wide eyes, his mouth open. He remained silent, and I longed for his words to change my mind. But he kept his eyes on the ground and took a shaky breath in and out.

At that moment I wanted to tell him how sorry I was, but I couldn’t. I was frozen. As if on autopilot, I left his room, shut the door behind me, and went straight into the shower.

***

I had been having a hard time falling asleep for the past few weeks, but after that night I found it impossible to sleep at all. The guilty conscience tormented me so much that I thought I had arrived in the well-deserved hell of insomnia. A siren was constantly wailing in my head, which got louder as soon as I got into bed. When I closed my eyes, I saw images from the night we shared with Lucien, so I kept them open and stared out at the world day and night like a zombie.

“If you’re going to spend your nights studying, you might as well combine it with something meaningful,” Martin said a few days later and handed me a flyer from the volunteer sitting watch.

My fear of running into Lucien was so great that I listened at the door before leaving my room. When I heard him come home at night and take a shower, I would lie in bed, heart racing and sweating, staring at the ceiling, afraid that he would finally be the one to barge into my room and demand a conversation. If I had worked as a patient sitter, I would have been spared all of this. I would also have enjoyed helping someone selflessly. On the other hand, I would have put on the mask of a philanthropicliar. Helping strangers, pretending that there was nothing wrong with me, while it was me who was causing trouble around me. No, doing that would only have brought me more shame. And it wouldn’t have been a punishment if I felt good about what I was doing.

Once again I increased my running distance, running double the distance every day, and after a few days, my muscles became so sore that I could barely walk. Completely exhausted, I dragged myself through the cold days and thanked God for making self-flagellation so easy.

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