THE ART OF OBSESSION, kai mori

02. little angel

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the past _ four years ago

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I just started my senior year and I already can't wait for Devil's night. My friends and I are graduating next May and once the four of us go off to college, we won’t be home unless it is for winter or summer breaks. So in two months it will be our finale.

I slam my car door shut and walk through the parking lot, past Damon’s BMW, and toward the rear entrance of the cathedral. Opening the door, I walk into the lounge area.

I inhale a deep breath, the ever-present odor of incense filling the quiet halls. I am Catholic by birth, as is my friend, Damon, but in practice, we are Catholic in the same way Taco Bell is a Mexican restaurant.

I play along for my mother, while Damon plays along for amusement.
I head down the hallway to the actual church, but a loud thud pierced the silence, and I stop short, looking around for where it came from.

“What did we discuss yesterday?” I hear Father Beir’s burly voice from somewhere off to my left.
“I don’t remember, Father.”
I smile to myself. Damon.

I take a left and step quietly down another marble hallway. I stop just before the open door to the priest’s office, I lean back and listen to Damon’s smooth, calm tone answering Beir as if following a script.

I have to contain my laughter, at Damon's words. He's forced to be schooled face to face for weekly counseling sessions with the priest and he fucking enjoys it. He takes pleasure in being anyone’s devil.

Twisting my head around, I peek into the room, seeing the priest walk around the desk while Damon kneels on a single pew, the black Bible on the stand in front of him.
“Do you want to be judged?” The father asks.
“We will all be judged.”
“That’s not what I taught you.”

Damon’s head is bowed enough for his black hair to hang just over his eyes, but I'm able to see the hint of a smile that Beir probably can't. He wears our school uniform, since it is Friday in the morning and we are on our way to school, but he looks like he has been in his clothes all night.

He suddenly turns his head toward me, and I watch as he juts out his tongue, moving it side to side suggestively and grinning like an asshole.
I break into silent laughter, smiling at him and shaking my head.
Douche.

Turning away, I walk back down the hallway, toward the church, leaving Damon to finish his 'lesson'.

There are many things I love about this place, but being lectured like that isn’t one of them. The masses bore me, the Sunday school monotonous, many of the priests distant and cold, and so many of the parishioners vile to each other Monday through Saturday who suddenly changed their tunes between ten and eleven o’clock on Sunday mornings. It was all such a lie.