Will He forgive me?
Blandness.
That's what Lucas was feeling as he watched his literature teacher express the admiration of his favorite piece of reading for the umpteenth time this month.
To be fair, the boy was secretly fond of the book himself, but today was the last beautiful day for the earth to lay beneath the autumn sky. The brown leaves were slowly undressing the trees, while the small animals were readying themselves for the heart-swelling, but long awaited, decrease in temperature, yet he was in an old English classroom with no room for improvement. His body was convulsing as time kept ticking, and his mind was racing. Bathing with uneasy thoughts that consumed him whole and erupted him in fear.
Was it the girl standing close to him that purposely wore the uniform two sizes smaller in such weather to perfectly 'accentuate' her breasts? Or was it perhaps, the failing athlete from his math section that chose a very thoughtful method of interruption by ejecting his leftover food from lunch? Certainly, it was not because of those, but a sound of a voice. An eerier tone of voice that pulled him in an anxious wave waiting to be calmed by the warmth of its soothing mistress.
Eternal damnation is what it constantly whispered to Lucas. Contorting his stomach each time his fingertips grazed over something other than the book of righteousness. Some days it was more than a voice, presenting itself as a black figure with a top hat, ominous smile, and the scent of spirits on its tongue. Following the scared boy until he atoned for his foreseen actions but return to torment him once more because of his unspoken perilous thoughts.
"Are you pious, Johnny?" Lucas questioned the honey-skinned male in which he wished to touch ever so lightly. He was a year older than him and had curly hair that covered his balmy brown eyes. A sculpted jaw that was considered art to their female classmates and to him; see there it was again. His silent thoughts. Johnny paused, "And what if I’m not? Will you denounce me too?" There he went again, Lucas thought, twisting his question with another question as if he was a mere entity.
“Can I tell you something?” Lucas decided to change his wording to which the other male hummed in response. He was listening that’s for sure. “I hear things…see things…feel things. It hurts, Johnny. It hurts so much.”
“Sounds like a case for Sandilands,” Johnny snickered. He was mocking him, no taunting him, just like the eerier voice. Insinuating that his words should be locked away in Pandora’s box and thrown into the anxious sea just to calm it down momentarily. He felt numb and his skin burned, looking down to see pieces of cuticles stuck between his fingernails. “I was just playing, Lucas. That place is meant for druggies and crazy people, not some student that stays up until dawn minding social media. They don’t care about our kind anyway.” Said boy kept silent not because of the words spoken, but because of the ridicule hoot made for him from the passing church’s alley. “We don’t fit in…we can’t.” Johnny stretched with stubbornness, but Lucas couldn’t hear him anymore.
Flesh, living for the flesh! It echoed in his ears. Evil concupiscence! Repeating itself over and over until it was the only thing the boy could hear. His eyes snapped shut, barely opening to sneak a glimpse at his friend who was caught in a calming daze as if he could not hear the voice speaking to them.
“I need to go.”
“What the hell?” Lucas heard the other in a distance as he stumbled off the sidewalk. One…two…three cars honked and sped past, sneering and throwing insults at him instead of stopping to help. “Deliverance is what this country needs. Just look at that blessed’ ed young man practicing foolery in the midst of this three o’clock traffic!” Someone yelled, throwing a water bottle at the boy who was on the verge of collapsing.
Why wasn’t anyone helping him? Did the city turn a blind eye just because his battle disrupted their painted-picture peace? Were they also on that thing’s side? Mocking him and beating him…shunning him because of morbid emotions that he couldn’t understand. Incubus is what you are! A fiend! The air roared, startling Lucas as he struggled to shut his front door behind him.
A hymn. A God-forsaken hymn greeted the boy with the scent of ethanol. And there it was again, that damned ominous smile. Nearing him with every intake of air in his lungs, and God, was he scared. Scared of the figure’s smoke-like body increasing in size. Of its razor fingers that threatened to press against his charcoal skin. And of the menacing shriek that shattered the iris of the house, causing it to bleed from its pupils.
Trembling in its embrace while shutting off the deity’s grace, Lucas began to feel hopeless at the even bigger darkness approaching him. Redemption is why it came, dragging a silver girdle with one hand and the water of life in the next. And with a strike, his body became one with the harsh surface that lay beneath them. He wanted to scream, but his voice got swiped from him just as his mind. He was pummeled mercilessly like a baby handling its rag doll, leaving his earthly temple torn as dusk welcomed him.
Time had passed once Lucas finally opened his eyes. He was weak, yet with a blurry vision, he pulled his soulless body to a place that awaited his arrival. He was a sinner that he knew much. A sinner whom no one could help, which was why he greeted the top hat figure with a smile. It embraced him like a friend, allowing its razor fingers to finally bear down on and claim his skin like a prize. One, two, three tears trickled down his face as reconciliation with peace indefinitely kept him.