Page 66 of Fallen
Present Day
I'mnotanunyet, so I don't have to be good.
Another lie I told myself as I hid under the habit and slipped out of the back door of the church.
I would be starting my second year of discernment, to see if I really wanted to be a nun, and I felt smothered, restless.
Just need to get away for a little bit.
Under cover of night, I briskly walked through the garden, using the moonlight to guide my path.If someone sees me, hopefully they'll think I'm on a mission of importance.I squared my shoulders, hoping my posture conveyed confidence instead of covertness. No one would dare question me if I didn't seem suspicious.
I hoped.
Inside, a wild part of me laughed hysterically at the idea of a wanna-be nun slinking around in the dark.
As soon as I left the invisible windows of the church, which felt like disapproving eyes, I scurried under a towering cypress and pressed my spine against the bark.
"What am I doing?" Instead of answering myself, I yanked the habit over my head. The cool night air kissed my exposed collarbones and shoulders. I wore a thin, hot pink tank top with cut-off denim jeans.
If Sister Carrie were to see me now, she'd pass out.
Quickly, I bundled the clothing into a pile and stuffed it under a nearby bush.
A feeling of lingering watchfulness washed over my skin.
Frozen to the ground like a statue, I stayed in the darkness. Listening. Smelling. Pushing my senses to their limits. I detected no strange noises. Only an occasional snuffling and the minute crunch of leaves as tiny critters scurried for food.
Must be my guilty conscience.
After checking both ends of the street, which remained quiet and dark, I felt relieved.
Feeling a bit surer of myself, I marched in the dark, with only the occasional streetlights to keep me company. When I reached South Fourth street, I turned right, toward my destination. Toward my doom.
Stupid girl, said Sister Mary's voice in my mind, even though she'd been dead for a couple of years.Do you want to be a Sister or not?
It was a great question. So why was it so hard to answer?
I didn't know why I struggled.
Father Trevor, the priest who'd pulled me out of that burning vehicle, said it was divine intervention and I should pay God's favor forward.
Lucian left me to die.I'd called on him, begging him to help, yet he never did.
Some small part of me couldn't get over the fact he'd abandoned me so quickly, so heartlessly.
I should've let go of the anger, but no matter how hard I tried to ignore my bruised, aching heart, the rejection seethed inside like a tiny worm of burning hate.
How could I have ever thought I could love the devil?
I let out a bitter chuckle.
The only thing in my heart now for Lucian was disgust and revenge.
And I knew it was wrong. So wrong.
What kind of person commits themself to God, yet still harbors hate in their heart?
The deep bass of pounding drums and electronic guitars filled the night as I hurried toward the building with the neon sign shaped like a full moon.
