Basorexia - J.MAGUIRE

[1.14] priest

Ciara, after the entire incident in the church, just decided to join them even knowing what had happened, for the shits and gigs. It wasn't like she had anything else important to do anyway. So she followed the girls into Sister Michael's office and listened to them telling her all the details of the morning, Erin forgoing many key pieces of information that would render the entire story null. Sister Michael was not convinced and took Chip's silence as a piece of evidence to back her disapproval of the whole situation. Nevertheless, she called upon the priest to talk to the group about their, as she put it, 'alleged sighting.' While all this occurred, Ciara sat in her chair and picked the skin around her nails out of boredom as her leg bounded up and down on the floor.

When the Priest himself entered the room, everyone became transfixed. Having expected an old man, like usual, the girls were all pleasantly surprised about the rather good looking man that walked through the creaky door to Sister Michael's office.

"Fuck me," Michelle muttered her gaze fixed onto the priest as if he were moving in slow motion and starring in some cologne advertisement.

"I like his shiny hair," Orla added, peering at the priest's hair as if it were a fine work of art displayed in a museum.

"So do I," James commented, nodding his head rather enthusiastically.

"You're drooling there James," Ciara joked, chuckling to herself softly.

The following conversation that occurred with the Priest was particularly confusing and added to Chip's boredom with every second that passed. There was hair advice for James, modelling questions from Michelle, a conversation that lasted about thirty minutes about how Peter believed that God did not think anyone was a dick - James was particularly fond of that one. And to wrap it all up in a neat little bow, Peter was clearly and very loudly suffering some sort of crisis of faith that he was pushing onto them with deliberate force. Ciara did feel sorry for him, thinking his entire life's work was fake and a absolute sham could not be easy whatsoever. Sister Michael and Ciara were both having none of the conversation and shared the odd disapproving glare.

-

Due to the lack of nicotine within her system, Ciara had been a little too snappy with Dr. W. So snappy that she had walked out early, not wanting to have to deal with the constant and awfully repetitive questions about her eating habits because he thought it was because she hadn't eaten. Which she hadn't, not since the day before, but it wasn't that this time. Her body screamed for it, mind working overtime to try and come up with a way to get her hands on something that could soothe the urge. So when she saw Eoin, the second she stepped out of the office, she practically cornered him to ask him to buy some for her. He, after a brief hesitation and thought, refused. His argument was that it was an unhealthy coping mechanism that she needed to stop anyway - this method just meant she was forced to do so now and not when she was 'ready.'

So as Ciara walked back from the doctors office, not wanting to take the bus as she usually would as she couldn't be bothered to deal with the people that were often on there at this time of day - namely one of Cal's friends who simply loved a chat. As she reached the main part of town, Ciara sporadically looked around in multiple hiding places trying to find the one person that she knew would get what she needed without hesitation. But instead, she happened to run into Michelle, James and Clare. Well actually Michelle had come running up to her, waving a bag of pick n mix as if it were the most expensive flag in existence. "Dennis gave me a free pick and mix. Bon Bons and all! No fucking about like," she exclaimed, showing the proof of the Bon Bon's victoriously.

Chip tried her best to act as if nothing was going on and it seemed to work for the entire walk, until they reached the ten metres in front of Erin's house. "You look a bit peaky," Clare commented, concern starting to tug on her brow.

"Ran out of cigs," Ciara replied reluctantly, knowing that each of the people knew about her smoking habit. At this point, Erin and Orla were the only people she had not directly told or smoked in front of. She didn't mean for that to occur, nor did she know how it had, but it felt awkward to tell them now. A sort of guilt infected the whole situation and she did not know how to handle things.

"I don't have any either," Michelle responded, knowing that Chip was likely to ask her. Michelle was more of a joy smoker, as she called it, whereas Chip was more dependent on the nicotine for dulling out her thoughts of hunger which were now ever so active in her mind.

As they entered Erin's house, the girls all began ranting about the entire scenario about the dog and everything that came with it. Like the free pick and mix, the Derry news article on page five and James' odd fascination with becoming all spiritual just like the priest. Erin just remained silent, sporadically looking around at all the voices as she toyed with the idea of telling them all the truth.

"Erin for fucks sake, tell them," Chip sighed as she leant against the wall, resting her head onto it too as if it would help the pounding in her head. The rest of them fell into silence, looking between both Chip and Erin.

"Tell us what?" Orla asked softly, looking to Erin for an answer.

Erin sighed deeply, shoulders remaining tense as she lowered her voice so her confession would not be overheard. "The tears on the statue. It was... piss. It was Dog's piss."

"You're not serious?" James blurted, eyes widening in what looked to be terror.

"Sweet and gentle Jesus," Clare gasped, panicked breaths matching the rapid thudding of her heart. "I mean that sorta makes sense, I'm not even sure I saw her smirk anymore. I've had a lot of caffeine."

Michelle's confession came next, which she gave with about as much care as Sister Michael had about the general population of her students (barring a few.) "I definitely didn't see her smirk. I was lying, so..."

"Excellent," James grumbled, beginning to realise how deep in shit they were and how awful his hair looked in Mary's hallway mirror.

"I was going to tell you all earlier but then Peter showed up," Erin rambled, her voice having a dreamy tone to it. "And there was just this instant connection, like a spark," she smiled brightly, truly believing her pure delusion.

"I'm actually going to boke," Chip grumbled, grimacing deeply at the very thought of that pairing even though she knew Erin was making it all up in her own head.

"There was no spark, Erin."

"He said I was special!"

"He also said your dead pet had been fucking resurrected, so pinch of salt," Michelle added, somehow snapping Erin's brain back to the matter at hand.

She shook her head of all its thoughts and cleared her throat. "Yes and now he's talking about digging him up. And when he does, he'll realise that Toto has not been resurrected. And we've all been talking shite!"

Clare spent the next ten or so minutes trying to conceive the others that their best course of action was to just tell the truth right then and there, get it all out on the table before it got too far (Chip argued that it had already gone way too far but she was mostly ignored.) Chip backed Clare the entire way, trying to show them what an awful path they were headed down but the group remained unconvinced and instead were trying to think of things that they could do to make their delusion reality. "The jig is up!" Clare yelled desperately,

"Doesn't have to be," Erin smirked in such a way that Chip instantly knew they were all fucked.