✞ Matthew 6:15 ✞
✞ "But if you do not forgive others their trespasses, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses." ✞
✞ Sister Jude, or rather, Judy Martin, the former head nun of one of the most infamous mental hospitals in the small city of...
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--- The Following Morning --- --- 1st of March, 1965 ---
Within the elapsing hours perkily smoothing through the wee hours of the morning at flipping book pages' pace, Josiah informed Kit and Grace of their relative's arranged release from the hospital at last.
The following morning Sister Mary Eunice went early to the airport to not miss her flight to Pennsylvania, in order to catch up with her work, immensely and eagerly anticipating her elvish bare hands to register their strong-willed craft and mastery.
Even though it was the last time beholding the last night the British compatriot, anyway Judy was wisely informed about his vile essence's ominous intentions and kept herself safe as much as possible by seeking either a nun's or a priest's help to arrange the exact day of the British compatriot's conjuration. Judy deeply knew she wasn't all alone in her apocalyptically infernal, challenging clash with Demogorgon's recent prey of ominously unholy spiritual possession.
Furthermore, supernaturally violent elation contaminated the former devotional woman of the cloth and the creased sentiment of sheer elation encouraged her high spirits to glimmer a thousand patterns of mirth. Mirth beautifully invited decorating her facial attributes and the thick veil vibrantly scintillating illuminating beneath the vibrant spotlights of the absolute reality, cusping with her celestial reverie, gearing persistently.
It has been almost a day since the former licentious jazz nightclub singer has beheld Kit and Grace, even imbibing with her pools of profoundly expressive hazel their frequently optimistic, beatific smiles, glittering abstractly past her vision and hazily fogging every pattern of hideous despondency.
Jude would love to be back at her only home, where for a couple of weeks mustering up the scintillatingly beatific atmosphere suffocating the small, nevertheless, cozily convenient household. She would love to see their welcomingly sunny smiles, cracking their facial expressions abruptly.
Jude would love to desolate the medical institution's corners with its rich reek of heavy medicaments, acute illnesses, eventual demises and the frequency of human perspiration and footsteps greasing the dusty tiled flooring with its ghosting pace hovering up the surface aloofly.
As soon as the blonde's arranged release was efficiently depicted by altering her appearance from the sombrely contrast of her low-spirited, foully melancholic physique of the mere, indifferently achromatic hospital patient into the mere, beamingly breathtaking woman. She participated in the general population by brushing her hair, smartly, nicely dolling her up outstanding physique and sheer glossiness glimmering from head to toe as a recently blossoming palish tiny star, cheerfully resuscitating in the nocturnal sky.
In the interim, the juvenile couple eagerly anticipated the former holy woman to flee the grandiose hospital's façade, climbing up past their visions which lively supervised the ocean of strangers, identified either as nurses and doctors or otherwise patients fleeing or entering the façade's eerie walls like gates of hell. They determined their lives' destiny between the presentable life and the ferociously bloodthirsty grim of death.
