~ Irina's P.O.V. ~
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"Good day, Miss Pashkova," Monsignor Howard greeted me with his quiet proper accent. "We meet again. How are you on this fine morning?"
I bent my knees to situate myself on the cushioned kneeler in the small closet like room, peering through the screen between us. It was only the second time I had been to confession; after being admitted for two months, it was now required. I always went last. I'm not sure why, it just happened to be that way.
"I'm well, Monsignor Howard. How about yourself?" I asked in my most joyful voice.
"I'm well thank you," he nodded shortly. "Shall we begin?"
"Yes. Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned."
"What sins have you committed, my child?"
"Nothing out of the ordinary. Communicating with the spirits, taking some food from the bakery..." My voice faltered at the end. No, I shouldn't tell him. It would save me so much trouble.
"Miss Pashkova are you alright? Have you done anything else?" He peered at me curiously.
"No," I shook my head, casting out the thought. "No, I was just thinking."
"It really seems as if you are hiding something, child. What is it?" His glinting eyes convincing.
"I engaged in sin with...with Kit Walker. He and I indulged in our carnal desires, the sin of the flesh..."
"Well just last confession you said you had not sinned with the young man," he continued to eye me peculiarly.
"I know," I exhaled, not meeting his eyes. "In fact it was later that day. I just succumbed to the desires of the flesh. I was weak that day, though I do not know why. It's something I'm not proud of," the last part was definitely a lie. I tried not to smirk to myself.
'Well make sure that it does not happen again. Remember, though, that the Lord forgives all sins because he is good. Always remember that - God is good, God is hope."
"I'll make sure of it, thank you," I smiled as he dismissed me.
I walked out into the darkness of the church, cast with the glowing of tea light and taper candles and filled with the same haunting yet beautifully holy feeling that always pervaded the church.
Then, I felt something rather peculiar. I knew it was a presence, a very strong presence at that. I think the only thing I felt that was stronger was the Devil during the attempted exorcism about a month or two ago. But I knew nothing about this presence and when I say nothing I literally mean nothing. The gender, age, race, ethnicity, appearance, personality, aura, and literally everything about it was unbeknownst to me. The only thing I recognized was that it was created from the same energy components that created human spirits; it was an earthly spirit from neither Heaven or Hell. However, it felt as if it was from a different dimension, just barely out of reach.
It had been going on since last night, getting slightly worse. It bothered me that it was just out of reach, just barely tangible.
Show yourself, I commanded mentally.
Silence.
I know you're there. Why don't you let me see anything about you? I can help you, I promise. I may not be the best. My power is limited and uncontrolled. I lack guidance, but it's in me. I can listen, I can try to find your family. What do you need? You can at least reveal one thing, if you'd like...I made sure the voice in my conscience was soothing, comforting and inviting.
Still silence.
I sighed, making my way out of the church. The looming of the spirit still did not vanish.
"There you are," a deep unique voice said behind me cheerfully.
I turned around to see Kit. I smiled just as he did, his dimples popping out as he outstretched his arms. I took the offer and ran into his arms as we embraced. I inhaled the sweet musky scent in the crook of his neck. Despite the clothes being washed at such a place as Briarcliff, a homey linen scent greeted my nostrils.
"Sorry, I just always happen to go last."
"No worries, darling," he kissed my lips, allowing them to linger. "So what did you tell the Monsignor?" We started to walk towards the kitchen.
"I ended up telling him the truth. What did you say?"
"I did too," he sighed and smiled to himself, looking up to me as he shoved his hands in his pockets, retrieving one to take my hand in his. "Turns out I can't tell a lie either."
I laughed as we entered the bakery. As it was an overcast day, there was no natural light bouncing off the white tile walls - only the artificial ones on the ceilings. It was fairly empty, though a few people were still working, rolling dough and using the ovens. Some sat absentmindedly playing with their dough, their eyes glazed over.
I still felt the spirit in the back of my mind, still doing nothing except being.
Please. Who are you? What do you want? Please don't be shy...
The spirit still did not answer.
"We have to make bread today. I know you said you wanted to cook pumpkin pie though."
"Don't worry about it," I smiled. "We'll do it next time."
Kit and I set to work, kneeding and rolling the dough, cutting it up into peices with metal sheets, grooving it into the sticky dough to separate it. Neither of us talked for a few moments.
"Irina, are you alright?" Kit put his dough down and wiped the flour off of his hands, touching my shoulder softly.
I looked into his eyes, seeing the concern in his face and his eyes alike.
"I...Well, I'm fine. But see, I know this will sound crazy but there's this spirit that's been bothering me since last night. It's like an itch in my brain. I know nothing about it no gender, face, voice, nothing. But it's there just out of reach."
"Is it human?" He raised his eyebrows.
"Yes."
"Do you think maybe it came with that couple...Rose and Jimmy, from yesterday? Maybe Anne?"
"I don't know," I shook my head. "But it's bothering me."
"Oh Irina. I'm so sorry it's bothering you so much," he embraced me, his nose flattening against my cheek as he kissed it. "Is there anything I can do?"
"No," I shook my head. "But thank you. Just you being here makes me feel a lot better." I closed my eyes as I leaned my head on his shoulder.
"It bothers me," he said quietly, turning me around to face him with his large hands on my shoulders. "That I can't protect you from whatever this is. I just want to make you feel safe."
I sighed. "Me too. I just wish I knew what this was; it's never happened before. But don't worry. You always make me feel safe, darling."
"Do you have Thredson today?" Kit asked me with a smile as he kneeded the dough.
"I do," I replied, using a rolling pin to flatten out the dough and sprinkling flour onto it.
"Maybe he'll help. I know you trust me more than anyone, but he's a professional."
"He doesn't believe me, though," I shook my head solemnly. "He thinks that I'm sick, that I have schizophrenia. He won't help."
"You don't know that."
I glanced at the clock, sighing. "I should be going now. After what happened that one time, I never want to be late to another appointment ever again."
"Yeah, that was horrible," he shuddered, leaning over to kiss me. "Meet me in the common room after?"
"Of course," I smiled. "I love you."
"I love you, too."
I walked all the way up the stairs and down the dimly lit hallway to the room where Thredson and I regularly met, knocking on the dirty white door with a brass handle.
"Come in," a man's quiet professional voice answered.
I opened the door and slid in, closing it noiselessly behind me.
"Good afternoon, Irina," he greeted, a lit cigarette already in between his fingers as he sat behind his folders, paper piles, and type writer.
"Hello Dr. Thredson," I replied, sitting at the chair in front of the desk.
"How are you today?" he asked.
"Could be better. How about yourself?"
"Fine, thank you. Before we begin I'd like to ask how your body is adjusting to the Thorazine treatments?"
"I'm fine. I had the rash, the drowsiness, and the diziness in the beginning, but I'm alright now."
"No agitation?" he looked at me over the square black rimmed glasses he always wore.
"No, suprisingly."
"Depression?"
I glared up at him. "I'm in this place. What do you think?"
"Just asking," he held up his hands. "I figured so; I just wanted to ask."
"It should be obvious," I snapped back. "I'm in this hell hole. Yes I've made friends and I have Kit. They make this place bearable and they make me feel more alive but I still have a shit ton of problems."
"Is anything in particular bothering you today, Irina?" he raised an eyebrow, taking a drag. "You're usually not like this."
"Yes, actually," I said in a small voice, my eyes darting around.
"Would you care to share?"
God, he asked so many damned questioned. I know he was a therapist, but today it irritated me for some reason. This spirit was really making me angry, the constant itch in my brain.
"See, there's this - Nevermind," I swallowed. If I told him, he'd think the voices were getting worse and up my dose of Thorazine - or worse.
"What is it?"
"No, it's just one of those days," I shook my head.
"I can understand that," Dr. Thredson nodded, scribbling down notes in my file.
"Have you been speaking to the spirits?"
"No," I lied.
As we wrapped up our session, he stared at me long and hard for quite some time. He extinguished his cigarette in the ashtray, his burning hazel brown eyes not leaving mine.
I shifted under his gaze as it had made me uncomfortable. I looked down at the ground. Neither of us said a word to each other.
"I can tell something's changed in you, Irina," he suddenly said.
I looked up at him. "Huh? What do you mean?"
"You're different. I can sense a shift in you."
"It's probably just because I'm extra irritated today - it will go away. Or maybe being here at Briarcliff has taken its toll - lack of sleep, different food, more religion, punishments, medications...that's all destined to change a person. Maybe it's finally all catching up."
Maybe the spirit was effecting me more than I thought. Ugh, please - just answer! Who are you?
"Yes," he said after an elongated moment, pressing his lips together. "That must be it."
I could tell by the tone of voice that was not what he meant, but I let it go. I tried to read his aura, but I couldn't. He was the only person who's aura I couldn't see and it bothered me, almost concerning me.
I saw the familiar apparition of his mother appear behind him.
"Irina - " she warned, but faded as she had always done. It was killing me not knowing what she was trying to tell me.
Dr. Thredson reached across the desk and rubbed the tips of my hair between his fingers tucking a strand behind my ear. His fingers brushed my cheek and then my lips. I grasped his wrist shoving it away. My gaze didn't leave him as I was trying to anticipate what he was doing.
"What the hell are you doing?" I snapped.
"You're special, Irina," he said after a long silence. "Don't let anybody tell you otherwise."
"Yeah," I nodded. "I won't."
"You know I see myself in you."
"How so?"
"I can't explain it."
"I...I need to use the restroom, Dr. Thredson. I'll see you soon." I needed an excuse to leave.
"Goodbye, Irina."
Not meeting his eyes, I quickly left the room without so much as a formal farewell or a thanks. I had to get out of there. Considering his behavior, there was something not quite right with him and his mother had to be telling me something about that. Why could I not read his aura? Who is this spirit haunting me and where did it come from? Is that what Dr. Thredson picked up on - does he know what the spirit afflicting me is? Was everything connected or separate? What was the meaning of any of it? All I could say was everything was driving me mad.