Seven Months.
- Reads 20
- Votes 2
- Parts 1
"You know Elias... I really don't think I like you as a human being anymore..." My throat breaks internally, reducing my voice to that of a subtle whisper.
"No, Love. You don't. You utterly adore me." He speaks loudly (loud enough to cause an uninvited echo through my hallowed chest) as he flashes a crooked grin in my direction, and I can't stop myself from looking down uneasily. My heart beats in my upper chest, and I can't help the abrupt realization that perhaps he 'enjoys' making people squirm, he 'adores' forcing his theories and concepts on people to make them feel incompetent and uneasy.
Perhaps that's why he remains to stay in this town where he believes he is God; perhaps that's why he remains to keep a molding grip on me where he knows I am nothing but a naïve little girl who cannot defy him.
"In fact.." Hee whispers, suddenly grabbing the edge of my chin gently, forcing my perhaps-too-pale face towards him "I have another theory. A much better one than referring to you as a mere cheap imitation.. A brilliant theory... That maybe you fancy me in more than one way... And that maybe you are the One."
"The One?"
"Of course, my Darling." He smiles softly as his eyes light up with a hopeful and daring beam.
'You're mad...' I stare him straight in the eyes.
"The One I want to be present with me at the time I rule this madness... At the time I slit every innocent child and guilty man's throat... At the time I kill this God forsaken president... At the time everyone will refer to me as their 'God'."
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She was the undesired outcast, who stood out, yet simultaneously blended effortlessly into the background. I could see the panic in her glassy brown eyes as she prayed her way through the crowded hallways. She'd tightly clutch that cross around her neck, full lips whispering, asking her God to spare her from their scornful glares, hateful comments, and the occasional rough-up. Silly girl. Did she not know that he was not listening and he would never save her? Like Jesus, she was the sacrificial lamb. The anxiety-riddled girl would burst through the doors of the school's library with her chest heaving, heart racing, and sweat dripping from her temples. I'd watch her from the shadows as she stored her items behind the check-out counter, preparing for her free period she spent assisting the school librarian. I clenched my teeth, watching her wheel a cart of books throughout the aisles as she cheerfully hummed her Sunday hymnals. She wore a green and blue pinafore dress that fell mid-calf on her shapely body. She attempted to hide that body from me with oversized clothes, but you could never outfox a fox. They spoke pure blasphemy when they labeled her undesirable because I desired Jezebel Holmes in the worst way. Those opaque white stockings our classmates teased her for wearing did nothing but spur countless hours of fantasies. I'd dream about ripping her tights apart, right at her center, revealing her virginal cotton white panties covering her untouched paradise. I'd yank them to the side and taste her fear in her cum. Her stockings would find themselves strangling her neck while I fucked a believer out of her. I would be the one she'd pray to absolve her of her sins. I would be the one she would seek protection from. I would be her guiding light. I would be her God. #1 in Dark Romance #1 in Tainted Love #1 in Preacher's Daughter 1st Place in General Category - Hearts Award
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