Page 3 of Heartless Heathens
You don’t.
The alarm on my tablet sounded out, and I took off sprinting towards the rope. The bell tower lived inside the old chapel. Before NotreDame Parochial College received their mass funding after the pandemic, this was where students came for lectures. Three times a day they congregated for prayer led by the one and only Father Frollo. The school quadrupled in size with funding after the sickness hit, and a grand cathedral was erected in the center of the campus, far away from the old chapel.
Father Frollo was promoted to Archbishop of the entire Church, and his responsibilities and time at NPC became fewer while he worked to spread the message of God to a bigger audience. Aside from the one class he taught a week that brought him here to resupply my needs, I was mostly alone, stuck in the attic of this abandoned chapel.
The main floor was mostly empty now, aside from a few broken pews that faced the elevated altar. Stained glass windows shone brightly across the room when dawn and dusk broke through the horizon, creating the perfect cascade of rainbow colors. The beams and arches were old rotting wood now, but they still held up soundly even in the worst of storms.
Behind the altar was a hallway and a few backrooms, bedrooms, bathrooms and a kitchen for the teaching nuns who once lived here before relocating to the new building. In that hallway, right past the bedrooms, there were stairs that lead to an iron door. Behind the iron door was… me.
The bell tower of the chapel is my home. There’s my bed and my essentials like my tiny refrigerator, TV, a bookshelf. A small trunk of clothing, though I don’t fit in much of it anymore, and, and, and… that’s it. I mean, what more do you need? Yeah, a toilet would be nice, but I can usually climb down a vine and use the broken one hidden in the back downstairs. Though, sometimes Father Frollo gets suspicious if the bucket is too clean.
I don’t want to talk about the bucket.
I have fresh air, as long as he isn’t around, that is. All I have to do is hop up to the bell tower and greet Laverne on the ledge she perches from.
She keeps watch over the campus, I like to think she’s looking out for me. Keeping me from making bad decisions. The older I get, the less I’m bothered to stay his secret. But then Father Frollo strolls into the attic with groceries and a harsh reminder that I could never make it on my own out there.
He’s guaranteed it.
He reminds me I’m not even enough to be considered a person.Undocumented.
But when the alarm goes off, I get to ring the bells and all those thoughts turn into dust and fly away.
I climb the metal spiral staircase in the middle of the attic. It leads up to the small tower where the bell hangs. There are some platforms on either side, but in the middle, there is nothing. Just a free fall back down. Leaping from the ledge, I grab the rope and use my weight to swing the bell back and forth, loving the way each hit vibrates through my entire body like it’s waking my soul up from a deep sleep.
It’s the closest thing to freedom that I’ve ever known.
Each clang unleashes a new part of me I didn’t know existed. Even if it’s just for a moment, I’m someone else, somewhere else.
I know joy.
“That’ll have to stop now,” Father Frollo says with a scowl, arms crossed, as he waits for me to descend. Bags of groceries sit on either side of him while he patiently waits for me to organize them.
“What do you mean?” I rush to the bags, putting away each item one by one, examining this week’s haul. “I thought you said the bells were an important part of the school’s culture and history?”
“We may have some extra attention on us this year.” He cut a glaring look my way before continuing. “Some rather unsavory types will be attending this term. Their guardian had too much financial sway and promised essential funding that could not be overlooked by the board of education or the church.” He cleared his throat uncomfortably, as if this decision had been out of his control.
He had fought against it. That much was clear.
I couldn’t imagine that there was someone who told Father Frollo what to do. Someone who had more power.
“You would do well to keep yourself unseen now more than ever. Do you understand, stupid girl?” he said with eyes hardened and a sneer across his face.
“N-no. I don’t.” I confessed.
“I would hate to think what they would do if they found you, Romina dear.” His voice turned threateningly low. “A heathen does not care for the judgment of God. They have no rules, no moral compass. If it is not the fear of God that drives them to their actions, then their actions must be damned,” he spat, his anger increasing with each word.
“I will not save you if they find you. I’ve carried you as a burden long enough.” He looked down at me with some semblance of disgust on his face.
“Is there somewhere I can go?” I asked and immediately the back of his hand found my face.
“You belong to me, Romina. There are monsters out there who will eat you alive. I’ll be by less often, but I’ll find a way to bring you food.”
“W-what if I were to become a student?” I asked, hoping my solution could fix the problem.
“Ungrateful little slut,” he screamed down at me, raising his hand to strike again and I flinched back towards the mini cooler. “I am trying to protect you from these damned heathens and here you are trying to whore yourself out and mingle with them?”
“No! I am just trying—” The burning sting of his palm against my cheek came again, this time sending me to the ground from the impact.
