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The moment she'd heard the diagnosis, she went all in on preaching that only God could save me. If not for my doctor taking me seriously, I’d think I was possessed, too.
I held onto that diagnosis like it could save me.
She’d used it like a weapon.
In the end, I’d have to save myself, somehow.
Who knows what she told the school, but no one had looked for me in the past two weeks of solitude. At first, she locked me away; when that didn’t miraculously fix me, she brought me here.
Monty flickered his shadow-clad hand toward me, forcing me to pay attention to him. A silent command to heed his words.
“But it would be so fun,” I pouted, speaking out loud to answer his question but not giving anything away to the men in front of me.
“You can’t fight them all, little human,” he countered as he stopped in front of me. “Do you want to be locked in a cell forever?”
“They wouldn’t,” I said. There was no conviction in it and now that the words were out there I couldn't help but panic.
Would they lock me in the depths of their church until they were positive I wasn’t possessed?
“Then just play the part of the good little girl and act normal. That’s the only way you’ll survive. You’ve done it before, Harlow.”
For once, his voice wasn’t taunting, but serious. The change put true fear in me.
What did he know that I didn’t?
My random conversation with a shadow they couldn’t see, sent the robed men into another furious round of verses.
They wielded crosses and holy water like they needed protection from me when it was the other way around.
I wasn’t safe with them and their outdated views. There were two strikes against me, I was an unmated omega and crazy. At least I didn’t do things by halves.
The group continued to preach and sprinkle their holy water around, making symbols with their hands that were supposed to rid me of evil.
Monty moved behind them, the shadows that I thought might be his fingers mimicking the movements so I had to fight back my laughter.
“They think I’m possessed. You’d think the church would learn the difference between possession and batshit crazy.” My joke cracked me up enough that my hysterical laughter silenced them all.
Monty was laughing with me now, the sound jagged and raspy. I wished they could hear it, too.
It was beautiful in a haunting way.
Once I’d gotten over the initial shock of my personal monster, I’d been drawn to him. I found myself wishing he was close when he was gone and calling to him when I needed him.
And he nearly always came.
When our laughter fell away I turned my words to the misguided men.
“Did dear old grandma tell you I was diagnosed? Schizoaffective, in fact. Hallucinations aren’t going to be prayed away, and as long as I can’t afford my own medication, it seems I need to make friends with the voices in my head, huh?”
The bishop froze and gaped at my words before turning to his colleagues. His voice was laced with an alpha’s bark.
“Is this true?” he asked the others. His voice was sharp and biting, holding an edge of worry. I let myself cling to the hope he’d put a stop to this.
A priest stumbled forward, ignoring his question and getting right in my face as if the bishop’s protests were unimportant. I guess his alpha designation let him ignore the man who was clearly his superior.
Stringy gray hair fell over his eyes, and I could smell wine on his breath.
Interesting.
