Take Me To Church (A John Lennon Story)

Chapter Eight: If I Fell

Trigger warning: Sexual assault

"What is the most memorable holiday you've ever been on?"

I bit my lip.  "I've never really had a holiday, John.  In case you haven't noticed, my father takes his work very seriously.  He would never have a holiday if it meant not being able to preach his sermons."  I was lying on the carpet, and my head was resting next to John's legs.  He played gently with my hair.  It was raining outside, and we didn't feel like going anywhere.  After a quiet moment, he said, "I wish you could stay here with me forever.  I don't like the way your father treats you."

I sat up. "I'm his-"

"You are not his anything.  He shouldn't be able to touch you without your consent.  It's your body...they're your feelings."  John said, his angry cooling when he reached his last few words.  "He can't control your heart."

"I'm afraid I can't control it either." I leaned back on my elbows.  John leaned down and kissed my cheek.  "You seemed to know how control it yesterday...and last night.  You said you loved me, Ariel."  I could tell he was getting upset, but wasn't sure what to say.  "I'm sorry, John...but I don't think you understand.  I don't want to insult you or hurt you...but you must realize that just by being here with you...I am at the gates of Hell in the mind of my father.  I'm going to have to go home...and my father is going to demand to know where I was and who I was with.  I'll have to say something, and if I tell the truth...you'll be in trouble."  

John wouldn't look at me.  I pleaded for his attention.  "I do love you...I-I just worry that the more we get attached to each other, the more it's going to hurt when he finds me."  

He began to stand up.  "I'll be burned at the stake before I let him find you."

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 "I didn't mean to upset you."

"Well, I am.  You won't let me help you.  You act like you want freedom and that you can't stand your father, but then you defend him.  How ironic.  You are defending the noble priest who tried to take your precious innocence."  

I began to get angry.  "You don't know how painful and frightening that was for me, and you're acting as if it's some hilarious joke!  I'm sorry I came to you for help; I should have just yanked out my pocketknife and stabbed him!"

John hit the counter, frightening me.  "Don't be a bitch!  I saved your arse that night at the park, and at the Club.  If I hadn't been there you would have never made it out alive."

"Maybe I shouldn't have," I said quietly.  But it silenced him.  He reached out to touch me, but I stepped away from him.  Crossing my arms, I looked down at myself.  Even though Ella had given me two dresses to wear, I had put on John's sweater after the night before.  It was really comfortable...and it smelled like him.  "Don't say that," he spoke softly, touching my shoulder.  "I...I wouldn't be able to stand it if something were to happen to you."  

I bit my lip.  "But...my dad will find me sometime.  There is no telling what he will do.  And he will justify it...whatever he does.  It's the truth...and it doesn't matter if it upsets you or not.  He'll find me...and take me, I know.  And I will never see you again if he finds out about us."

But then a thought occured to me.  "Unless I lie."

Turning towards him, I said, "What if I go back there tomorrow...and I look absolutely terrible?  Maybe I could have a few fake bruises and my dress is torn.  It would look like I was hurt, and I could beg for forgiveness and say that I won't leave home again."  The idea seemed like the best one out of all the thoughts that were swirling in my head.