The Hunger of Alexandria

Chapter 1

I went to church as a child. The morning sermon still rings in my ears from time to time, the slight murmur of the people who had seen more to this life than I, as they discuss the drama in my small town. I am then called to the sanctuary to read a sermon, my small black mary jane shoes shuffling lightly on the carpeted floor of the church. Behind me a large cross with Jesus on it is hung on the cream colored floral wallpaper of the church, slightly molding in the damp corners. I say my favorite excerpt from a sermon.The eyes of everyone in the room watch me boredly, except for my youth group leader Andrew. Andrew was in his early 20s, he smelled of firewood and musky cologne most days, however some days he smelled strongly of beer, the pungent scent filling my nose when he’d shake my hand in the morning. I knew I was his favorite, I knew it with every bone in my body.He would always spend more time around me, putting his hand around my shoulder when I was cold during the bonfires held during church camp. On the occasion that I would make a bracelet during free time, he would always wear it, rubbing my back and telling me he was proud. Eventually as I grew older, we grew closer, when I was 15 he would tell me stories about his life outside of church.He spoke of drinks with friends and experiences with women, he told me that if I didn't tell anyone then he wouldn't tell anyone what I say.  I told him of upcoming assignments I was stressed about and boys I thought were cute, he always seemed incredibly uninterested in the boys I was talking about. He pointed out every flaw about them, he told me that I was much too pretty for them.He always said things like that, he would compliment my body and how well i was developing. How I looked just like a woman he had kissed the night before, after taking her home. I thought of Andrew as a close friend, the scraggly beard he had grown over the summer made his sleek jawline soften, his normal put together look was now accompanied with forgetfulness. His white polo messily tucked into his khakis, remnants of the night before lingered in his mouth like bad perfume. The pungent scent of alcohol clouded around him, coating his being. I grew to not like Andrew, the closer I was turning to 18 the more I hated going to church. The judgemental stares of people in my town made me nervous, they made comments on how I looked too grown at such a young age.Andrew got worse as well, the more I aged the more he wanted to know about my personal life, asking if I had lost my virginity yet. I always told him no, even if I did I didn't want him knowing, what if the church found out? What would they think of me? One day after church he pulled me aside.

"So when are you turning 18?"
Andrew asked while looking down at me, awaiting an answer. His eyes were bloodshot, presumably from not sleeping, though I suspected it was from something stronger than alcohol.

"Next week, why Andrew?" I answered his question with another question, I pulled down my light blue gingham patterned dress. My white socks were a bit wet from the morning dew.
"Would you like to go on a date?" He asked while moving a piece of light brown hair out of my face. Looking at me though he wasn't looking at my eyes, he was looking at my chest. I felt my body heat up, I had never wanted attention, let alone this kind of attention. His eyes felt like hot metal on skin, burning whatever it could touch so long as it harmed.
"Oh come on Alexandria, between us and God, we all know that isn't true." He gave me a small glare before returning to his normal calm demeanor, his breath still reeked of alcohol.

I sigh lightly, I don't want to cause problems. "When?" I ask politely, watching the excitement grow in his eyes, I was dreading this date however I knew I'd only see him for a few more weeks.
I was graduating soon, maybe I'll move to a big city and never see him again.

"Saturday, I'll pick you up at 8." He hands me a slip of paper with a number on it, he hugs me deeply, brushing every part of him against me, grabbing more than I'd like. He hops into his rusty BMW, the car sputtering as he drives away, leaving a thick cloud of black smoke behind him as he speeds off. The sinking in my stomach makes me so much more aware of the situation. I was 17 about to go on a date with a 30 year old man, and no one cared? I think to myself as I walk home from the church, leather cover bible in hand. The tapping of my shoes on the sidewalk accompanied with the occasional sound of a car driving by me.