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I blink a few times to clear the blurry vision, but it doesn’t help. My tongue feels big in my mouth, my stomach hurts like I’ve eaten something to upset it. The dizziness gets worse with each second and I feel like I’m not inside my body.
Closing my eyes for a second, I breathe in slowly. When I open my eyes, I dare a look at his face. He looks deep in thought. Standing to his feet, he outstretches his hand for me to take. I don’t want to. I don’t want to do another thing to purify my soul or whatever these rituals are about, but I still hold his hand and let him guide me in front of a mirror next to the bed.
“I want you to take off your clothes,” he says. His voice sounds deeper.
I turn to face him with panic written on my face. “Father, I… I don’t want to. Do I have to?”
“Yes, my child. You have to do this. I’m sorry. It pains me too, but this is the only way I can help you.”
“Father, is that right? I mean… I’m not feeling comfortable,” I murmur.
He shakes his head. “You should be grateful you can have this chance, Veronica. Only our special students can get the chance to purify their soul under my gaze. I’m going out of my way to help you, young lady.”
I grit my teeth. I don’t want to be in trouble, but I don’t really want to do this, either. Taking a deep breath, I reach to the white dress they make us wear as a school uniform. I take it off unceremoniously and stand in front of the mirror with my bra and panties.
“You need to take them off, too.”
“What?” I cry out, taking a step away from him.
He chuckles. “We need to repeat everything you’ve sinned in front of God’s eyes again, Veronica. Do it, or I’ll have to do it.”
My eyes widen with panic and fear. I look at the door, wanting to run away from this room, from this place.
“You want to run, don’t you? That
’s the evil inside you,” he says and takes a step closer to me, blocking my way to the door.
“Do it, or I’m doing it,” he says. His voice isn’t soft anymore, it’s threatening, and I’m scared. I’m scared to my bones.
With the fear, I reach to my back to unclasp my bra. My hands shaking, my head is spinning. I hold the small piece of fabric in front of my breasts to cover my nakedness, but he rips it off my hands, throwing it on the floor.
“Your panties,” his voice is hoarse. His eyes are blazed. At that moment he looks more like the devil than God’s man, but I do as I’m told. Not because I think that will purify my soul, but because I’m so scared of the man in front of me. He’s so big next to my small frame and I can’t even think what he would do to me if I displeased him.
With Father Edward, I know he’s a good guy, but the guy who is looking at me right now seems like he doesn’t even know the meaning of good. He looks like Father Edward, but he’s as different from him as day and night.
I want to shout, but my tongue is too big for my mouth; there’s no voice coming out. I’m panting. My throat is dry and aching. Reaching for my throat, I wrap my hand around it, opening my mouth to make a sound but there’s nothing but the voice of my erratic heartbeat and fast breaths. I take a step forward, but my feet stay like they’re chained to the ground. I’m helpless and scared. I’m vulnerable, at his mercy, and everything is blurry chaos.
I shake in front of him, naked, blood dripping from my thighs and he smiles. He leans back to look at my nakedness with hungry eyes, licking his lips.
“Turn your back. Hands on the mirror,” he says, but I can’t move my body. Am I in shock or is this the drink I’ve had?
He shakes his head and places me the way he wants like a ragdoll. His chuckle reaches my ears. He’s amused like me being a puppet pleases him.
Then, he starts to take off his own clothes.
I can see him, I can hear him, but I can’t move, I can’t scream.
And as he takes away my innocence from me, I watch it like a dream. No, a nightmare. I watch everything like it’s an out-of-body experience.
I hear his every groan, every crude word, every animalistic grunt. And I watch every tear I shed as my face pressed against the mirror. I hear every silent scream that rips out from my heart.
And I do nothing.
I just watch and watch.
And a part of me dies. A part I’ll never get back.
Chapter 23
