Unholy Obsession

Chapter 12; Bad news

Hannah's pov

"May the spirit of the Lord be with you, the father, the son…"

Father Pascal blessed the congregation and soon, began processing down the aisle with his altar servers, the lay readers and the catechist. Rays of light from the tall arched windows at the sides of the church struck the aisle, a halo beaming above the priest. It was the perfect image and something my mother always adored about the church. She enjoyed its ability to make everything look so divine. But I knew better. Not everything was as it seemed.

"That was a lovely Mass," Mama said, a smile on her face. She was dark skinned and wore a bob wig. 

"Indeed, Mama."

Papa inclined his  head, his brown hand resting on my shoulders. "What is the matter?"

I had been avoiding going to mass with my parents for the past two months. Every moment with them felt suffocating and I couldn't tell tell them anything. With my current problems and new situation, they would disown me in a heart beat.

"I'm fine, I promise."

Mama nodded. "We are glad you finally joined us for Mass. You should come more often."

"I've got work."

"Even on Sundays?" Papa queried, scratching his greying afro hair.

I nodded. "Even on Sundays."

"This your boss, eh," he added. "He sounds like he is stressing you."

"No, papa. It's just that—"

"Mr and Mrs Tsegaye," Father Pascal said, joining us. His bloated stomach was poking through the white garment he wore, leaving straining folds on the attire. He smiled warmly at my parents and when his eyes dropped on me, I saw a darkening mask behind those blue eyes. He had always looked at me that way and I was no fool. I knew what he wanted. His stupid gazes were some of the reasons I used to justify not coming to mass.

"Father, we loved the gospel," Mama said.

Papa closed his hand, tipping his head over. "Bless you, Father, for your teachings. You do it so well."

My stomach knotted and bile rushed to my throat. This was how they were. Religion was supreme to them and at times, they couldn't make logical decisions without considering the church. Mama once donated half of her salary to the church because Father Pascal claimed the church needed some major repairs. And trust me, those repairs were not made. Instead, after months of faithful donation from sweet Mama and the rest of the gullible church, he had gotten himself a brand new Cadillac.

"Hannah," Father Pascal rested a hand on my shoulder, "This is the first time I have seen you in weeks."

I moved, signalling that I didn't want his hands on me. "I've been busy with work father."

"Oh child, but you must make time for the Lord."

Mama added, "I wonder what she does with her free time."

Getting my mouth stuffed with a cock and finger fucking myself. 

Yeah, wait till they heard that. They would lose their shit. I felt a strange surge of power course through me at the fact that I had control over my life for the first time ever, and they didn't have any idea about it. More importantly, they had no say over it. 

I fake-scratched my shoulder, using the opportunity to take away Father Pascal's ivory hand. He prayed for my parents and then left, my mother still smiling like her world was complete. If only she could see that man for what he truly was, maybe she would dial down on dictating my life with the Bible.