Not Just A Pretty Face

Chapter Five

My school still maintained elements of the Old Religion.  Most of it had disappeared over the years, but my school was renowned for trying to keep it alive.  I had believed in it; there must be a God, someone who was watching over us.  Someone must have started this all.  Someone must choose what happens.

   But what kind of a God would do this?

   The chapel was only non-wired place in the school.  Light was maintained by wax with wicks, lit aflame.  The place was dark brick, and the only light that came in were from coloured glass windows, decorated with complete Paradisiacs.  Back then, as the religion went, if you became a Paradisiac, it was rare to stray from it.  And God had sent His son to gather them, and try to guide the way for us today.  Apparently, they failed.

   I looked at the coloured window above my head, and saw the famous twelve – all men, all permanent Paradisiacs, except for the one who betrayed.  Yet he still got to keep the status, which made no sense to me, but I did my best not to question the religion.  Until now.

   Mum tried to believe.  I think she only did so to keep her own mother – my grandma – happy.  Grandma was of the generation who tried to.  Nowadays, people didn’t have the time or the capacity; they believed that hard work and goodness would make a happy life, and this was the life you had now.

   I found it extremely hard to believe now, but it was all I could do.  This was my last connection.  If it even was one.

   I walked to the altar at the back, and knelt down on the maroon coloured carpet.  I cupped my hands together as I had been taught, and wondered if I was breaking some sacramental rule.  I hadn’t been to a place like this in years.  And I just sat there.  I was mulling things over in my mind, and trying not to cry.  It had one day, and every hour that I went on living, I just wondered why this God didn’t take me, first.  Mum was far more of a Beautiful than me and everyone knew it.  There was no justice in this.  In the dead silence of the room, I let it carry me to a safe and serene place.

   “Hey, mum,” I whispered.  My mouth went dry suddenly.  I didn’t know what to say.  “Bet you didn’t think you’d find me here, did you?  Or maybe you did.  I’m not sure.”

   I had read before that sometimes people felt stupid, talking like this to someone who couldn’t reply.  But I didn’t at all.  She would have done this for me, and I needed to tell her. 

   “It’s been three days.  Grandma’s come, you know?  She’s staying with us.  You always wanted that, even though she lived just down the road, but…”  I sighed.  “You know, I’m not going to sit here and ask for help for myself?  Just help grandma and dad, mum, because they really – really – do not know what to do.  Please just keep an eye on them, would you?  Forget about me, seriously.  I will keep my promise, I’m going to fine… but I am extremely worried about them…

   “I got my exams coming up quickly.  No offense,” I paused, giving one half-laugh, but it wasn’t one that was supposed to contain humour, “you chose a pretty bad time to go.  But I know that wasn’t your choice, so don’t feel bad.  This is my first day ‘back’ at school.  I haven’t returned to classes – I will next week.  I wanted to start today but I just… I am so tired.  Writing your eulogy is draining, I admit, only because I have so many things I wish to say yet can’t fit it in, adequately, in ten minutes.  How the hell do I compress someone like you to just ten minutes?”  I felt that heavy feeling in the back of my throat, and knew the tears were coming.  I couldn’t cry now; I had to meet with the principal and some other admin members with dad after this.  So she didn’t see me crying, I looked up at the ceiling and forced a smile.  “I hope you’re happy.  I do wonder what your heaven looks like; people say it’s different for every person.  I have a feeling a version of me is there, though.  You’d be in mine, too.”  My lips and forehead creased; the tears came now.  “I miss you…”