There were so many beautiful shoes on either side of us, some taking up the sidewalk. Some sparkled and shined, others looked similar to the ones they put me in in the Back Hall. Certainly not shoes Pastor Masters allowed at our church though.
Thomas hadn’t said a word since he put me in the van, but I could tell from the way he was walking that he was nervous. I wasn’t sure why.
It has been three weeks since I lifted my finger for Azrael. One week since I felt his warm gaze on me. The two Sundays after he asked me to tap my finger for him, he came back, requesting one-on-one sessions with me again, only to stand in the room and simply watch me.
For thirty minutes each session, we just stood. He didn’t say a word, didn’t even move. He just looked at me.
But this last Sunday, he had been gone, and Thomas seemed relieved about it. I didn’t like that he felt relieved because I feltdisappointed. I liked when Azrael stared at me. I liked that he wanted to spend his time watching me alone and in service. I didn’t want his eyes to be on anyone else but me.
I knew selfishness was a sin, but I couldn’t help it. I’d rather sin with him than follow their rules with anyone else.
The wounds on my chest were almost completely healed now, but the other sessions at church had gotten worse. Sessions heldaftermy sessions with Azrael.
Thomas no longer stayed in the room, giving all of the Leaders time with me without his watchful eyes. They gripped my hair painfully, forced me to swallow, forced me to suck, forced me to taste.
I had lost more weight, but I was able to eat a little more. I didn’t feel so tired anymore and I was getting used to the taste of the saltiness and mold, but I suppose it did help that I went to other places when it happened.
I went to that room with no cameras and no lights. When Azrael’s cane was pressed against my chest and his eyes warmed my skin.
My body followed the rules, but my mind? My mind was with him. Always with him.
I wondered if he liked hummingbirds too.
The air smelled clean here. Like lemons and lavender. The carpet was brick-red rather than dark red like the carpet in the sanctuary.
Before I could study anything else, I suddenly felt the warmth of his gaze, but it was so quick that I thought that maybe I had imagined it. Maybe I was spending too much time in my head during my other sessions. Maybe my mind was finally getting the best of me.
It’d be nice if he was here though. Maybe he would come mock Thomas again. Maybe I would get to feel his burning presence again.
There were people everywhere. Talking and laughing more than they ever did at the church. Much more. It wasreallyloud, and I felt something tickle over my skin. Nerves, I think. I didn’t like there being so many people.
I tried to step closer to Thomas, but he snapped at me, threatening another lashing.
I had to follow the rules, but it was hard here. There were so many people. I kept bumping into them on accident. Why were there so many people? I knew there were seven other churches, but this seemed far more than seven churches filled with people.
Were there other Favorites here too? Maybe that’s why it seemed like so many. Maybe they had all brought their Favorites.
We continued to walk through the building, Thomas giving greetings to whomever greeted him, until we finally walked through another door and slowed to a stop.
“Thomas,” a male said. I didn’t recognize his voice. “It’s good to see you.”
It was so much quieter in here that it caused the muscles in my back to release a little bit of tension. I really didn’t like large crowds, especially when everyone was standing and talking. Church was fine because everyone was normally sitting quietly, listening to Pastor Masters, but here? It felt as if anyone could just walk up and take me.
I suppose I wouldn’t mind if Azrael decided to do that, but anyone else? I didn’t much like the Leaders of my church, or Thomas, but who’s to say the other churches weren’t worse?
“You too,” he greeted, a slapping sound meeting my ears.
“Is this your betrothed?”
He sounded around Thomas’s age, but his voice was higher pitched.
“Yep, we’re getting married in…”
“8 months and 3 days.”
“September,” Thomas told him.
“Congrats, it’s closing in.” He walked up to me, his shoes coming into view. They looked identical to Thomas’. Brown, leather, nice. He must be a friend from another church, possibly the son of a Leader. “I thought it was an exaggeration. Her hair is really like this?” he finally asked, his shoes turning to point back at Thomas. “Some were saying her mother dyed her hair when she was younger.”
