Take Me To Church (A John Lennon Story)

Chapter Two: Who Is She?

The next day at school John asked around to his friends. "That pretty little brown-haired girl in Science...do you know her name?" They were outside between classes, smoking cigarettes before the teachers caught them. One of the guys smirked. "You ought to forget about her, mate. Her father is that crazy pastor everyone talks about. Good luck getting within a mile radius of her when he's around."

John snuffed the cigarette in the grass. A few girls passed by giggling. Normally John would have chatted them up, but he couldn't stop thinking about the girl he met in the hall the day before. She was...beautiful.

One of his friends punched his shoulder. "It's Ariel Elisen." The bell rang, and John hurried off to class. He promised his aunt he wouldn't be late anymore.

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I came to school the next day more nervous than usual. I feared that John was going to get me somehow. Ella's words frightened me. Why, out of every girl, would he chose to pursue me? When there were girls like Ella or Charlotte Wiles at school?

But maybe I was overreacting. There was a possibility that Ella was wrong, and that John didn't care at all.

She started to notice however that he was in a few of her classes. And whenever they made eye contact, she began to worry. So, by Science, she was panicking and nearly sweating through her dress. The teacher asked John to pass back an assignment they had turned in a week before. To some of the guys, when he passed behind them, he swatted them in the back of the head with his papers. Even though it was wrong of me, I couldn't help but smile. When he arrived at my desk, my gaze fell to the paper I was working on. I hoped he would just drop me my paper and continue. But he read a part of it, biting his lip as he did. "Interesting." He said, before handing me the paper. I swallowed hard, and put the essay in my folder. John put his hands on mine to prevent me from moving again. I nearly fainted.

"I'm sorry we, literally, got off on a bad foot yesterday. I'd really like to make it up to you, Ariel."

Why did he know my name?

The teacher cleared his throat. "Mr. Lennon, finish your job." Never before had I been so thankful for a teacher speaking in my direction. John smirked at me before moving to the next desk. For some reason Ella looked like she was going to black out. I couldn't tell if she was frightened by what just happened or excited.

I hurried out of that class as fast as I could. But then when I was at my locker, I saw that Lennon boy walking towards me. Out of fear, I slammed my locker door and ran into the girl's lavatory, knowing he couldn't follow me.

I wasn't sure how long I waited. It felt like an hour or so until I was brave enough to leave. The hallway was empty, and darker than usual. While I was shoving my books and folders in my bag, I nearly screamed when I felt a hand on my shoulder. It was Mr. Connors, the science teacher. "Miss Elisen, what are you doing here so late?"

Thankful that he wasn't John, my breathing slowed. "I...I was studying for my maths test, sir. I'll...be going now. Have a good evening."

But he beckoned me back. "Miss Elisen, are you quite alright?" I nodded quickly and told him I was fine. Hurrying out of the school, I broke into a run.

I never felt safe. Not at home, not at school, and not even at church.  I couldn't possibly tell that to my father however.  He was always preaching that if you confessed your faith and surrendered all to God, you would never walk alone.  

Then why did I not have anyone to turn to?  

Why was I perhaps the loneliest person on earth?

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It was midnight when I heard something in the bushes outside.  Squirrels and mice were common, and didn't frighten me, but whatever was outside my window was bigger.  A lot bigger.  

I turned to face the other side of the room, hoping that whatever was outside my window wasn't able to see me.  Burying my face in the pillow, I began to feel my heart pound.  When I was young, I used to have panic attacks.  It hadn't happened in a long time, but it was moments like that when I was afraid I would have one.  

Then it stopped.  

Biting my lip, I debated getting up for several minutes before silently slipping out of bed.  I was shaking as I carefully walked towards the window.  My father would have known what to do, and if I was brave enough to wake him, I was afraid to see how he would react.  

Unable to take it anymore, I tore open the curtains.  And stuck between the French windows was a letter.  Carefully, I took it and immediately shut the shades.  I knew that if I turned on my light my father would punish me, so I reached underneath the bed for my emergency flashlight.  Hiding beneath the covers, I unfolded the letter.  

Dear Ariel Elisen,

May I start off this letter by saying you are beautiful?

Oh, my...

Don't worry.  I'm not some pedophile watching you constantly.  I go to your school, and I'm in year 11 like you.  But I don't wish to talk about me.  Though I know this might seem frightening, but I would really like to know you better than I do now.  Just the small things.  

Even though those were the sort of moments that would have made me panic, there was something about this boy's voice that was...comforting.  

What do you like to do outside of school?  What's your favourite color?  Do you love your parents?  

When you look in the mirror, what do you see?

Love, 

Anonymous.

My breath hitched, but in a good way.  Whoever this boy was, he was charismatic.  Even though I wouldn't send it, I tore a piece of paper out of my notebook.  And so I began to write.  You flatter me...but I certainly am not beautiful.  I'm not sure if I believe you when you say your age, but I want to.  

I read a bit outside of school, but only books my father approves.  My favourite color would be light blue.  My mother passed away when I was three, and all I have left is my father.

I don't see anything.

After folding the paper, I put it back into the envelope that was left in my window.  I stood up in my dark room and flicked off my flashlight.  

I put the note back in the window.  

And in the morning, it was gone.