Take Me To Church (A John Lennon Story)

Chapter Four: She's Got The Devil In Her Heart

"You really aren't afraid of me, are you, Ariel?" John whispered.  I nodded, even though I felt like I shouldn't have.  He had backed me up into the wall.  My heart suddenly seemed to burst with emotion.  I threw my arms around him, crying.  

"I...I just don't know how to feel or what to think.  I mean...I'm glad you were there tonight when those boys came because if not I don't want to think about what could have happened.  And...I'm so worried about what my father would say if he knew I was here, or if he knew about the letters.  And..." I pulled away from him before I could say something even more embarrassing.  "I...I touched you.  I'm sorry."  

"No...it's alright, love.  It's good to touch."  He reached out to me, but I took a step back.  Shaking my head, I repeated what my father had told to me over and over, "Touching always leads to more."  

I had never seen him more calm.  "It doesn't have to.  Touching isn't bad, Ariel."  Gently, he took her hands and set them on his chest.  

He was muscular, just like all the girls said.  

All the girls...

If he had been on so many dates, had so many girls touch him, why was I any different?  What made me special?  

I immediately pulled away.  "I want to go home." I said, hoping not to sound angry, but stern enough that he wouldn't delay me any longer.  

"I'll walk you home."

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The next morning my father left me a note on the counter saying he would be gone for most of the day, but I had some chores around the house to do.  It was around lunchtime when the doorbell rang.  It was John.  I hurried him inside before a neighbor could see.  "You shouldn't be here.  If my father comes home to see you, we'll both be in trouble."  

"I just wanted to see you, love.  You're always locked up in your house.  It's bound to get lonely."  He replied.  

I began to panic.  And for one of the few times in my life, I swore out loud.  "Oh, God..." I was hyperventilating.  "John, you need to go."  

"No...what's wrong, love?"  My heart was racing uncontrollably.  

"Everything.  John, leave!  Before my dad finds you..."  

But he didn't leave.  "What do you normally do when you panic?"  

"Nothing..." I tried to breathe, but it didn't work.  "I...I don't know...what to do..."  Father always just told me to calm down, which rarely ever worked.  I usually ended up in a hospital, much to his displeasure. 

But John didn't scold me to calm down.  He, again, was completely unlike himself and took my hands, sat me down on the couch and wrapped his arms around me.  I immediately felt a bit warmer, but not an uncomfortable warm, a calming warm.  "Shh..." he whispered in my ear.  "It's alright.  There's no need to worry."  For a minute, I wasn't frightened of him.  I leaned my head on his shoulder.  He turned a bit to look at me, and our faces were inches apart.  My breathing had slowed dramatically.  My eyes felt heavy.  He sat up as my eyes closed.  "Ariel?"

"Oh...John..."

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I woke up tucked carefully underneath the covers of my bed.  There was a note on my chest beneath the blanket.  In his slightly messy handwriting, John had scrawled me a note.