And you've got your demons
And darling, they all look like me
Chapter 21 ~ Sad, Beautiful, Tragic
When Scotty died, I stopped going to church.
It wasn't exactly a domino effect where Scotty's death triggered my hatred for the church and everything it stood for. It was more of a gradual disliking. With time, I realized that I couldn't serve someone who wouldn't accept me as I was.
It was only when Scotty died that I realized that there was no point in worshiping anymore. What could I possibly be grateful for? The love of my life was gone and he left me here alone.
So when my mother burst into my room, insisting that I accompany her to church, I was thoroughly surprised. I learned to play the advantages of being depressed by convincing her that church wasn't a safe place for me. It worked, up until now.
"Why?" I groaned into my pillow.
"Because Owen and his father are in town."
I lifted my head to look at her. I should've known that was the real reason she wanted me to come. Owen was known to be very misguided and my mom took every given opportunity to "save" him.
"They're going to meet us there, so get ready," she remanded as she inched out of the doorway and closed the door behind her.
I snarled to myself and ran both hands through the spikes of my hair, sighing heavily. I wasn't in the mood to go to that wretched place, or anywhere for that matter. I was perfectly fine with staying in bed all day and drowning myself in a sea of Scotty. After everything that happened yesterday, I deserved at least that.
After a moment's hesitation, I threw my legs over the edge of the bed and stood to my full height. My gaze drifted to the nightstand where my cell phone laid. I stood in the middle of my room for quite a while, chewing thoughtfully on my lip as I debated on whether or not I should send Max a text message. Nothing too personal or anything, but just something to say hello.
I reached for the device and turned it on, silently hoping for a message from Max. When I saw the screen was void of any new messages, I tossed it onto the bed and trod warily to my closet to get dressed for hell on earth.
As soon as my parents stepped out of the car, they were greeted by a group of fellow church-goers. My parents were regular members of the church and seized every opportunity to give back to the house of god, whether it be my attending church-funded organizations, or giving tithe more often than necessary. This gave them the status of the most-liked and most-approachable members. Sometimes, I wondered if people actually went to church to worship God, or to just put up a front and make everyone believe they were righteous people.
Right now, I was leaning toward the latter.
Through all the madness, i was able to slip past the other families dressed in prudish clothing without being detected. I made my way to the grand entrance with the intention of finding a seat near the back, just in case I needed to escape in the middle of the service.
My plan was short-lived when a strong hand grabbed onto my shoulder and pulled me backwards.
"You just gonna walk past and not say hi?" Owen greeted me with outstretched arms, not wasting any time wrapping them around me. "Come here, you motherfucker, you."
A cold shiver ran through my body when I caught a whiff of his strong cologne. Knowing him, he was probably heavy handed on the cologne to mask the scent of the weed he was carrying in his pocket.
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