Page 20 of Drag You Down
Yours,
an angel in disguise
Istare at the note. The handwriting is neat, the letters printed clearly and with elegance. There’s nothing sinister about the paper, although I half expected it to smell of sulfur.
It shouldn’t be here though.
I don’t receive mail. I shouldn’t exist to the world outside. The less they know of me, the less likely they are to corrupt me.
“Levi?” Eve asks from inside the apartment. “Are you coming or going?”
I bend down and lift the box the note was attached to. “Going out. I’ll be back with the ingredients you need!”
How many times have I lied to her in the past week now?
The guilt consumes me, but with how shameful my thoughts are, I can’t possibly tell her the truth.
Part of me had hoped that the Devil had been satisfied with that simple prank, but of course I’d called him back to me.
This box proves that I’ve been naive.
He’s been in my mind every day for the past week, and my back might have been healed faster if I hadn’t kept jostling it in the middle of the night. No wonder the Devil is drawn to me. I seek pain alongside mortal pleasure in ways no one should.
I place the box into my reusable grocery bag, then head toward the stairs. I’m almost there, already past Father Zachariah’s apartment, when I hear the door open.
“Levi?” Father Zachariah says. “Do you have a moment?”
I nod obediently and head back to him. My back still twinges from the penance.
“What can I do for you, Father Zachariah?” I ask, keeping my eyes down.
I can’t decide if I want him to know what I’ve been doing, what I’ve been thinking, or if I hope I’ve gone unnoticed.
If he knows, he might force me to take penance again.
I yearn for the lashes, but my back hasn't recovered enough yet. If I’m too injured, there’s no way for me to protect Eve.
When I’m too injured, penance isn’t lashes.
I bite my lip and force myself to stay here, in the present, and not dwell on the alternative.
There’s a long pause before he responds, “Be careful out there. I’ve been sensing demons in the air. Something is trying to harm our congregation. We must all remain vigilant.”
I swallow, my tongue thick and slow as I respond, “Of course, Father Zachariah.”
I should tell him about the small package weighing down my bag.
I should tell him that I’ve been seeing the Devil every time I close my eyes.
But my back still hurts, and I welcome penance, I do, but my body can’t take more right now.
And I don’t want the other form of penance.
“I’ll be back soon,” I say, and Father Zachariah waves me off.
I hurry down the stairs and out the building, making sure to lock it this time. Father Zachariah doesn’t want to take any chances anymore, not after the fire alarm was pulled.
I stop, staring at the door to the building.
