The rain flooded the streets of Madrid as the morning started. It was good while it lasted, I guessed. Waking up to thunderstorms were calming yet nerve wrecking all at the same time. I liked it when it was innocent storms, and this is exactly what that was. Innocent.
Although, when my eyes open and the sounds of the rain drops pattered on the tin roof top of the ceiling, I was reminded that Gracie was laying next to me in bed. I felt her presence from behind me, mainly because her back was closely tucked to mine.
Last night was so unreal to me. I almost couldn't comprehend it, but when I came back to the apartment, I found Gracie curled up in my bed asleep. I felt so bad. She was way closer to Nathan than I was. I couldn't imagine what Michael had felt like when he heard the movies.
It didn't really hit me until I had gotten into the shower and I really thought about it. Like, really thought about it. The memory of watching him squirm around on the ground like a roach fighting for his life, the fire eating away at his skin as his screams pierced my ears.
I would never forget that scream.
It lived dormant in my head until it would popped out at times and cause my chest to shake in anxiety.
Nathan was dead, and when I had came to that realization, I fell to my knees in the bathroom shower and sobbed. With my hands flat on the slippery porcelain bottom of the tub, my knees steadied deep into the ground as if I was hurling out all of the nervous vomit. And I wept. With everything in me, I wept.
With my forehead to the ground, my palms closed, my tears washed down the drain to join with the river that I created in the sewage drains. I wept.
My eyes still burned from last nights episode, and I felt the crust peel at the corner of my lips as I parted them. With my knuckles to my eyes, I rubbed them as I threw the blanket off of me and trudged into the bathroom to freshen myself up.
I definitely slept pretty hard given the bags under my eyes and the amount of crust that snuggled deep into the crevices of my eyes. There was an empty feeling in my chest, but I tried to shake it off the best I could while I washed my face and brushed my teeth.
I was just thankful that my brain decided not to run a million miles an hour while I cleaned up. It was much too early for me to start thinking about everything.
As I cleaned myself up, I heard my floors creak around the apartment, confirming that Gracie had just gotten up. I sighed, rubbing the bags under my eyes with my two fingers as I pulled the door open and trudged out into the living room.
To me, it was okay to be sad by yourself, but having someone else around you that was sad at the same time was extremely exhausting. I had always felt like I needed to be there for someone when they were sad, and I did want too, but it was draining. Trying to take care of myself while comforting someone else was another chore.
But to my surprise, when I had walked out into the living room, Gracie just laid on the couch and said nothing. I let out a sigh of relief as I walked into the kitchen to make us both a cup of coffee. There was really nothing more to say, not right now anyways.
Not until me and Harry could figure out what the cause of death was with Nathan.
Gracie said that his burns were severe, and although that may be true, there was no way he could have internal bleeding without someone hitting him. I remember that night vividly, and I never saw him drop to his head. He was laying on his back. No rocks under him, no one hit him.
It just didn't make any sense.
I shook my head, slumping my shoulders as I poured the coffee into the two mugs and added some caramel creamer into it, stirring it well. Usually I never added whipped cream to my coffee, but today was a whipped cream day. Hopefully Gracie would appreciate the sweet gesture of it.
I shook up the can before pointing it down into the mug and swirled the whipped cream around until it looked aesthetically pleasing to look at. I was no barista, but god damn, this good pretty sweet to look at.
No wonder why people take pictures of their coffee's and shit on Instagram.
I was never a 'selfie' person, but I was definitely a 'whatever is pretty' kind of person.
I giggled to myself at the thought as I grabbed both of the mugs and made my way back into the living room. Gracie was now curled up on the couch, her eyes staring deeply into her phone as she mindlessly scrolled through whatever social media app she was on. I rolled my eyes playfully as I made my seat next to her, my elbow gently pressed against her foot to get her attention.
"Coffee?" I mumbled groggily, showing her the perfect swirled whipped cream that sat on top of the hot liquid, "It's not as good as starbucks, but--"
"Oh, Anna!" Gracie pouted as she looked over the mug, "This is so cute. Thank you, really," She took the cup from me gently, and as she went to take a sip, she had stopped herself.
"Oh, wait, I gotta take a picture of this. This is too good not to post on Insta," Gracie commented with a tired smile as she got out her phone to take a photo.
I rolled my eyes, seriously, this time. I never felt the need to post my whole life on social media like some people did. Not that it was a bad thing, but sometimes social media can create a perfect life that is unreachable. I'd rather stray away from that. I know I would never have a perfect life, and I didn't want to gawk at someone else's perfect life and make myself feel like shit.
"You're welcome," I croaked before taking a slow, long sip of my coffee. Just the taste was bringing me back to life. Sadness is temporary, but coffee is forever. Coffee will never leave me, coffee will never disappoint me. You just couldn't go wrong with coffee. Plain, cream, caramel, mocha, it all tasted good.
And it made me feel even better. It was like I hadn't just laid on my bathroom floor for an hour last night crying over my dead friend and wondering if my life would ever become a happy story instead of a devastating one.
Seriously, who the fuck was writing my life? Kindly begging them to turn this shit show around.
"So..." Gracie spoke up, whipped cream spread across the top of her lip as she smiled tiredly at me, "Michael texted me this morning and said that Nathan's funeral is gonna be held on Wednesday..."
"Oh," Was all I could say. I always felt like there had to be more to say when someone dies. There was no need in saying sorry, or how it was so unexpected, because the people you knew--knew. They knew you were sorry. Death wasn't some poetic thing to write about, it was something that you came to terms with.
Someone died. They lived, they loved, they fucked, they fought, and now they are dead.
I was tired of acting like death had to be something poetic, something that can change someone's life. People die every day and at some point, you say 'Oh' and move on. There is nothing I could have done to change the outcome. Nothing I could have done to prevent it.
We all die at some point, even I, too, will die.
What will I be remembered for? The story of my underwhelming life? Being a good friend?
Who knew.
I sure as hell didn't.
"Do you remember when we were eight years old and Nathan and Michael ended up catching those bells of hay on fire?" Gracie snickered softly as her finger twirled in the whipped cream, tilting her head in thought, "Oh and they thought they were going to get sued. Go to prison and never see their parents again," She laughed softly.
"Yeah, I remember that," I laughed softly, the corners of my eyes perking as I smiled, "They were really something else...Inseparable, really. Come to think of it, those two were never not around each other. They were conjoined at the hip."
"Best friends, yeah," Gracie breathed out, finally taking the whipped cream on her finger into her mouth, "Life is so short. It scares me..."
"Death is natural, there's nothing to be afraid of," I reassured her before taking a sip of my coffee. Death talk and coffee was not what I had planned this morning, but here we were. Talking about dying and drinking coffee on my shitty couch, in my shitty apartment, in this shitty miserable town.
"What do you think happens after death, Anna?" Gracie laid the heavy question on thick, leaving me no room to ease into the conversation. My eyes softened as I stared down into my cup of coffee, my finger tapping lightly against the cup as I let out a soft hum.
"I don't know," I said truthfully, taking my bottom lip into my mouth as I bit it hard before turning to look at her, "I want to think there is a heaven, but I don't know."
"I hope if there is a heaven, Nathan is there," Gracie whispered shakily, tears brimming her eyes slowly, "We should--we should change the subject. I don't want to cry at nine in the morning." She chuckled as her two fingers swept the tears out of her eyes.
"Okay, sure, we can change the subje--"
"So! You and Father? That's...different," Gracie perked up, smiling at me softly as she scooted herself towards me, "Tell me everything. Spill. Also, why didn't you tell me this before? I'm kind of offended you never said anything."
Welp, that's one way to get into the conversation. Way to point out the elephant in the small room.
"Ummm..." I laughed nervously, setting my mug down as I turned towards her, "I didn't tell you because it's not serious. We kissed and that was it..." I said softly, trying to dance around having to tell her that me and Harry definitely had unprotected sex.
"You know, you could have told me. Also, it's just so weird to see because aren't priests supposed to be virgins or whatever? Like, that's rule number one," Gracie said, tapping her finger against her chin curiously, "Do you think he's a virgin?"
I parted my lips, eyes widened as I stared at her. What was I supposed to say? I was learning a lot of different things too. Why did she ask me all these questions? She was supposed to be the wise friend that knew everything.
"I think that...priests don't have to be virgins, Gracie. I don't know! I never looked this shit up! I don't care too either!" I got defensive as I put my hands in the air in defeat, "I, uh.. I...we--"
"You guys had sex, I just know it!" Gracie giggled as she pointed at me, "You think I'm blind? I saw the way he was all over you in the hallway, come on, Anna. I'm not dumb. He's definitely not a virgin, and you both definitely fucked."
"Okay, yes. We--we had sex, but listen, you can't tell anyone, seriously," I rushed out, scooting closer to her as I placed a hand on her knee, "Seriously, he could lose his job and with the sketchy shit that's happening at the church, it's just better if we keep this between us, okay?"
"Girl, you should know that I'm not going to say anything," Gracie scoffed as she slumped her shoulders, "I'm just upset you didn't tell me! You hid the whole Zayn thing from me and now this? I just want you to be honest with me. We are supposed to be best friends."
"You're right," I sighed. Now, I just felt bad that I had held this back for so long. Gracie was my best friends and she's always been there for me. Even through the shit with my mom.
"I'm sorry, okay? I should have been honest, it's just that shit has been so fucked up lately and I just don't feel like myself. I'm trying to--find myself, and within that, I just get so caught up that I don't really remember that I have friends that I can talk to," I sighed, rubbing my arm slowly, "I won't hide anything else from you again, okay?"
"I forgive you, but if I find out that you and Mr. Hot Priest are hiding anything else from me, I will be utterly pissed!" Gracie perked back up as she stood to her feet, "So, with that being said, I have to go. I'm going to Michael's house and I need a much needed shower after last night."
"Okay..." I nodded with a soft smile as I rose to my feet. I grabbed Gracie, pulling her into a tight hug as I swayed us back and forth slowly, "I love you so much, Gracie. Thank you."
"Thank you for being there for me last night," She sighed, kissing the side of my head as she squeezed my torso with her arms, "I love you."
Gracie left, and there I was to sit by myself. I loved her, but I hated talking so early in the morning. I looked down into my coffee mug that had melted whipped cream and let out a disgusted scoff as I took both of the mugs into the kitchen to wash.
Whipped cream on coffee was something I was never going to do again. Although, it seemed like Gracie liked it--well, with her Instagram likes and all.
I grabbed my phone off the counter, staring down at it with pinches brows as I tapped my finger against the side of it. Me and Harry were supposed to go see Nathan's mom today to talk to her about what had happened, but I was honestly scared to text him first. Would it come off as clingy?
I was starting to overthink it. I just didn't want him to think anything weird about us, but we did make plans. It still felt weird. Last night was a dream, and I still couldn't believe that we had went on a date. His touch still burned imprints on my body, I could still feel it on my skin.
There was definitely a longing feeling for it.
Buzz, buzz.
Harry: What time are you wanting to go to Nathan's mom's house?
Well, speak of the devil.
Me: Uhh...ten?
Buzz, buzz.
Harry: Sounds good, I'll drive.
I sighed, pushing the phone away from me as I made my way into my bedroom. Why did it always have to rain on the day that I have to do shit? I still hate my mom for ruining all of my clothes and I didn't really do a great job thrifting for winter clothes.
Note to self: Get more winter clothes.
I put on a sweater with some flowy black pants and threw my hair into a pony tail. Simple as that. It wasn't like I needed to dress like I was going to church. I've met Nathan's mom a handful of times throughout my life, and she was a very sweet lady. She never judged, even under the roof of the church.
I remember when she used to make us cookies and bring them to us whenever the weather called for it. She was an amazing baker. I often bugged her for the recipe, but she always said it was a family secret.
I still to this day have no idea how she makes those cookies melt in your mouth.
There was a sudden knock on the door, and I immediately walked to the front to open it. I knew it was Harry, there's really no one else that it would be. God forbid it was my mother who out of the blue decided she wants to drown my head in the toilet this time.
When I opened the door, Harry stood there leaning against the door frame with a soft look on his face. I was starting to get used to him being around more often. It was a hollow feeling when he wasn't around. When he was around, I sure did feel a lot safer. A lot more cozy.
Still awkward, but he made me feel just okay.
"You said you weren't coming till ten," I furrowed my brows at him, tapping my fingers nervously on the door frame.
"It's ten now, Anna," He tilted his head as he looked down to grab his phone out of his pocket, "See?" He lit up his phone screen, showing me the time on his screen. Was it that late already? I guess I had let the time get away from me.
I went to look away, but did a double take on his phone screen. His lock screen was a photo of him standing in front of the cross at church with prayer hands tucked tightly to his chest. I let out a chuckle, covering my mouth with my hand as I peered up at him.
"That's your background?" I giggled.
"What's wrong with it? I like it..." Harry defended, looking down at it for a moment before shaking his head, "Never mind that, smart ass." He rolled his eyes as he shoved his phone back into his pocket.
"It's just--I expected maybe a family photo or a family pet," I shrugged as I stepped out of the apartment and locked the door behind me, "I just didn't expect it to be a picture of yourself. I mean, we have grown out of middle school, you know?"
"Hey, I don't think there's anything wrong with having a photo of yourself as your background. This photo was taken the day I was sworn in as a priest," He half frowned through a smile as he looked down at me, "What's your background then? Go ahead, pull it out and show me."
"You say sworn in like you're a fuckin' cop or some shit," I teased him as my fingers wrapped around my phone, pulling it out of my pocket to click the screen on, "It's a default photo. I don't use my phone often, so it's just whatever it was when I bought it."
"Interesting," He peeked down at it, pursing his lips, "So you're not the social media type then?"
"No," I confessed, sliding my phone back into my pocket, "I'm not."
"I'm not either," He confessed back, lightly bumping his elbow to my arm, "Don't feel bad, you're not missing out on much. I used to be on social media, but uh... That changed when I became a priest. Kind of had to delete all of my social media, you know? I had some horrid things on Instagram."
"Like shirtless pictures?" I teased, a smirk on my lips, "What? You don't wanna reel people into the church with lude photos? Hashtag it Madrid Church Of Christ or some shit like that?"
"Jesus, Anna," He mumbled through a laugh, placing a hand on his stomach as he started down the stairway, "Your mouth is a lot more--vulgar than I remember. And, I will have you know that I would surely lose my job if I did that."
"Hashtag priest daddy," I said slyly through a giggle, peering towards him out of the corner of my eye, "No, I guess this is how I am usually...I don't know. I'm trying to be myself, you know? Since I stopped going to church it's just been a lot easier to have a clear head about the things I do and the things I wanna say."
"Well," He sucked in a breath as he pushed the corridor doors open, letting me step out before following after into the bitter cold air, "Take it from your, uh...'priest daddy', when I say that you're quite amusing."
"Thanks, Priest Daddy," I remarked, sending him a wink before making our way to his car. The rain was coming down hard earlier, but now it had lightened up just enough for us to get into the car without being soaked.
"Please, do not call me that," Harry laughed out, his dimples embedded deeply into his cheeks as he looked over at me, "That is for Instagram only, right?" He sent a wink back at me as he started the car up. My cheek fell flush as I gave him a once over, shaking my head as I let out a soft breath of amusement.
We started down the road. The same music played on the same radio station he always had it on. I've became comfortable listening to his music, even if some of it was kind of boring. I liked it because he liked it, and it made him happy. It was a full circle effect. If he was happy, then I was most certainly happy as well.
I liked the way that he would hum along to soft notes, or the way his fingers drummed against the steering wheel to the beat of the song. In some circumstances, he got excited when a song came on and he would turn it up a bit more to enjoy it further. I was never one to experience something like this, just pure joy, in it's nakedness.
Between Harry and Gracie, I aspired to be someone that didn't really care what people thought of me. I wanted to play loud music, drink disgusting three dollar beer and live so carelessly, so undoubtedly me. Life is a journey, and I didn't want to take a shortcut to a washed down version of myself that has been told to keep my back straight, or my voice down. I wanted to feel the journey of change, and all the pain and happiness that it has to offer.
I was slowly starting to ease into figuring out who I am, without the church breathing down my neck. Without my mom telling me what was right or wrong.
I was doing it by myself, but I was okay with that.
"I think I like this song," I broke the silence, pointing towards the radio, "Who is this?"
"Oh," Harry broke away from his stare at the road, peering over towards me, "Tame Impala? Yeah, they're cool. I saw them when I was a teenager in concert."
"Oh..." I nodded, smiling to myself as I tapped my foot to the beat.
We pulled into Nathan's mom's driveway, the rain was making it much sadder of an occasion. I slightly wished that I would have visited before the circumstances, but I hadn't. Instead we were visiting on a awful circumstance, Nathan dying hadn't only affected us, but his family as well. I couldn't imagine what his family felt like.
If I was a mom that had just lost their own child that they raised, I could only imagine the pain would be unbearable.
There was a uncomfortable silence as we both peered at each other before getting out of the car. She knew we were coming, Harry had told her last night we would stop by. I swallowed thickly as we made it up towards the porch, silently.
Harry ran a hand through his hair nervously before knocking on the door a couple times, then stepped back to create some distance. I looked up at him, offering a soft reassuring smile towards him. He gave me a once over, his hands that were behind his back now placed on the small of mine for a moment before letting it drop.
The door clicked loudly before it opened, and there she was. Red eyes and all. Her brown hair was tucked tightly in a bun, some strands were poking out and she had her waist apron on that hugged her waist.
"Oh, Father..." She croaked out, smiling sadly towards him, "Anna, it's so good to see you again." She commented towards me as she moved out of the way to open the door, "Please do come in." She gestured towards the inside of her home.
"It's good to see you too, Carol," I sent her a smile as I stepped into the house. Her house smelled like baked goods, sending goosebumps down my arms as I let out a soft sigh. It made my mouth water, that was one thing.
Her house was tiny, since her kids had moved out, they had moved to a smaller house on the outskirts of Madrid with land. I remembered the old house they used to have, it used to be two blocks away from my parents house. Although they had moved, the decorations seemed to stay the same.
There were pictures scattered around the wall of family photos and small paintings of birds. Her house smelled like sweets mixed with a hint of firewood. Carol always loved her birds, she used to let us get on the ladder in the summers and fill up the birder feeder. It was always exciting to watch the hummingbirds come by to drink from her sweet water she's made for them.
"I'm sorry for your loss, Carol," Harry said as he placed himself against the wall, his eyes scanning around the house slowly, "It really is a shame that this happened."
"Yeah, it's really devastating..." I added on, bringing my lips into a flat line as I watched her shake her head, waving her hand around.
"Please, let's not talk about Nathan right now," She said soft, folding her hands over her stomach as she looked between the two of us, "Cookies? I've been baking all morning." She perked up, wiping the tears that threatened to spill as she hurried herself into the kitchen.
I looked over at Harry with an uneasy expression, and he furrowed his brows at me, shrugging his shoulders carefully as he followed Carol into the kitchen with light feet. When we entered the kitchen, it was a mess. There was flour dusted lightly on the counters with a rolling pin, a bowl full of mix for cookie dough and chocolate chips that somehow didn't make it into the bowl.
It smelled wonderful though, it made me feel like a kid. A kid that didn't have a dead friend, for a mere moment before I was knocked out of my nostalgia.
"Anna, I made cookies," She said as if I hadn't see the tray of cookies that laid on the still-hot stove, "Please, take one before they get cold. You as well, Father." She smiled kindly towards him as she plated a couple cookies and pushed them towards us.
"Oh, thank you," Harry nodded softly towards her with a smile before taking one. I said a small thank you and started to eat into the cookie. It tasted just like when I was younger, and somehow it melted just the way it used to in my mouth. I couldn't help but let out a small sound of happiness as I ate the crumbly cookie.
"So..." I cleared my throat of the leftover cookies, "How've you been, Carol?"
"Well, I've been okay up to this point," She said somberly, blinking hard as she started to clean up the kitchen. She was slow, her fists moving the wet rag in her hand slowly against the counter to make the flour disappear.
"I've stopped seeing you at church, Anna, it's been a few weeks," She commented as she stared almost blankly down at the counter. I shifted uneasily on my feet, letting out a nervous chuckle, but then stopping myself. I had saved it with a swift clear of my throat.
"Oh, yeah..." I whispered softly. The tension in the room suddenly fell thick. I looked over towards Harry who was on his third cookie, his brows pinched together as his thumbs worked through the dough to tear it into two.
I rolled my eyes, crossing my arms over my chest as I looked at him with a subtle 'help me' drawn all over my face. Luckily, Harry had caught me out of the corner of his eye and perked up as he tried to wipe the chocolate from his face.
"Oh," He mumbled, "These cookies, wow. I can't believe how delicious they are, where did you get this recipe, Carol?" He said through a mouth full of cookie, but his hand hovered over his mouth to cover the unsightly look of food in his mouth.
"Hmm..." Carol hummed as she eyed me, the feeling she gave me was incredibly uncomforting. Had I done something to upset her?
"Thank you, Father," She said soft, straightening her back up as she look between the both of us, "It's a family recipe. I don't give it out to just anyone. Ask Anna." She nodded her head towards me with a smirk.
"It's true," I strained out, letting my hands fall as I gestured towards her, "I've been eating these cookies for a long time and she's never gave me her recipe."
"Maybe I'll pry it out of you one day," Harry smirked towards her, sending her a innocent wink before pulling a bar stool out from under the island and sat down slowly.
"Doubt it, Father." She laughed softly.
"So, listen, Carol..." I stepped lightly towards her, pressing my hands against the island slowly as I peered towards her. She looked towards me, tilting her head. I swallowed thickly, switching my eyes between her and Harry before parting my lips to talk.
"Well, uh... Listen, I just wanna know...what was Nathan's condition the last time you saw him?" I treaded lightly on the subject, but this was as light as I could go right now.
Carol's face dropped slowly, her shoulders slumping. There was a heavy weight on her, I could tell. This couldn't be easy to talk about, but we needed to know what happened.
"The doctor said he was supposed to get out next week. Really. He was doing really well, although he was still not able to talk, but he was able to see and look around," She said soft as she pulled up a bar stool from beside her before sitting down, "The scarring was awful. I won't lie about that, I had never seen anything like it before. It was like something out of a--a horror story."
I nodded towards her, letting her know that I was listening to her. Harry stared down at his hands, his thumbs fiddling together before placing them to his forehead, his eyes shut tightly. This seemed like it was really bothering Harry too.
"Anyways, you know, he seemed just fine--" She croaked out, tears started to brim her lids as she let out a shaky breath, "He was my baby boy. My first child. Of course, we had Jared not too long after him, but...Nathan was really special. He worked so hard to--to get where he was at now. Just bought his first house at the age of twenty-two, I mean, how many kids can say they did that? At that age?"
"But he seemed fine?" I pressed again, pinching my brows in confusion, "Wouldn't you think that...something, maybe, happened?" I whispered softly as my hands laid flat on the counter of the island.
Carol suddenly went quiet at the question, her teary eyes seemed to have dried up and she was now staring blankly down at marble counter. Dead expression is what I would call that. I would also call it incredibly fucking creepy that her face just dropped like that.
Harry peered over towards me in confusion, then stood to his feet slowly. The bar stool moved from behind him, making a slightly loud noise as it scraped against the floor. Carol looked up towards Harry, her brows pinched as she gave him a sickly once over.
"Carol, I really think--" Harry went to speak, but Carol shushed him immediately, waving her hand at him.
"I think you both have overstayed your welcome," She said plainly as she stood to her feet, shaking her head slightly, "Please take some cookies before you go."
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to overstep," I rushed out as I walked to her side, quickly taking her hands into mine as I looked up at her, "Carol, I really think someone killed Nathan. Isn't it weird how he was fine and now he's dead? You must know how weird that looks."
"Do not talk about my son," She hissed, pulling her hands back from me as she gawked into my eyes. Suddenly so, her eyes were dark with a scowl on her lips as she took a step back from me, "I understand it looks weird, but God always has a plan. If his plan was to take Nathan from me, than so be it."
Harry parted his lips, a shocked look on his face as he took a slow step back. I think he was just as shocked as I was. I didn't expect this to go so south, but at this point, I really shouldn't of had any high expectations.
"Right, well, we will be on our way," Harry croaked out, clearing his throat as he slightly bowed to her. I looked over to see him nodding his head towards the door, his eyes wide. I looked back at Carol with a frown. I was disappointed to say the least.
"Have a good day then," I said under my breath as I grabbed my bag from the chair and left out of the front door. Harry came from behind me, keeping his hands behind his back as he followed me back to the car.
Carol hadn't even said goodbye. She just shut the door from behind us and let us go silently. If this was anything like the movies, then this is definitely not good and Carol knows something about his death that we don't know about. Or, she's just in complete and utter shock.
We slid ourselves into the car silently, the sounds of the rain hitting the car a bit harder than it was earlier. I let out a loud sigh, pressing a hand to my face as hunched over into my lap. I had a pounding headache, I was hungry and this seemed like a terrible fucking idea. Why did I even come up with this?
"Plan B, how about we grab some food and stop by the church for a moment? Nobody should be there, so--"
"No," I rushed out, a heave leaving me as I looked at him with wide eyes, "Don't take me there, please. I really can't be at the church right now. I just--" I started to feel myself panic slightly, I don't even know why I was so anxious at the thought of being there, even if nobody was there. Nothing was going to hurt me, it would be just me and Harry.
But I still felt my heart racing like a nascar.
"Okay, okay," He soothed me with his soft voice, "No church. That's fine. You don't have to go, we can just--park somewhere. Okay?"
"I'm sorry, I just...I can't go back there right now. I just need some space, okay? From there, I mean," I said shakily. Harry watched how panicky I was, his brows furrowed tightly as my body shook tiredly. I was tired. I was so tired. I didn't think my body could take anymore tragedy.
I stared out of the car window as the condensation cooled my hot head, my eyes fluttering shut as I let my body win to the tired feeling that weighed heavily on me. I hated feeling sorry for myself. I hated feeling so helpless. I hated feeling like I couldn't help. I was so lost in my own thoughts that grabbed me by my ankle and drug me down the deepest hole of self-loathing. I was so lost, but it wasn't until I felt Harry's hand slowly cup my knee that I got knocked out of it.
He wasn't the cure, but he was more like medicine. Which, can be unhealthy, but as long as I had a small dose of him, I kind of felt like I was okay. Just okay.
I was just okay.
"This sushi is actually really good," I said through my bites, my stomach was definitely happy and my headache was slowly fading away. We even got coffee and that brought me back to life. Ah, coffee.
"I told you," He said as he turned towards me, pointing the chopsticks at me while he chewed, "This sushi place is the best for that. People wanna argue that it's the one on eleventh street, but don't ever go there. When I first moved here, this was all I ate. It was five dollars for two rolls. I mean, c'mon...No brainer, it was cheap." He snickered as he sat his food tray onto the console, letting out a sigh of contentment.
"My mom never let me eat sushi because she said raw fish would kill me," I chuckled, shaking my head, "But she also told me heaven was real too, so who knows what's to believe?"
"I mean..." He sighed, pushing his hand through his thick locks as he glanced towards me. He looked unsure of what to say, or trying to figure out a way to dance around what he really wanted to say, "Who knows? Honestly. There's been so many books out there about people dying and coming back. Saying they saw heaven or hell. It's so different for everyone."
"Some people say they saw nothing," I added, staring down at my empty tray before grabbing the bag slowly, pursing my lips as I threw it into the trash, "And I think that's, uh... that's pretty terrifying, you know? Seeing nothing... imagine living all of your life believing in a God and when you die, there's just--" I swallowed thickly, flinching at the thought.
"Nothing." Harry finished, sinking into his seat as he peered to the side. There was a long silence, both of us were stuck in our own thoughts at the suddenly heavy conversation.
I've always known about death. I learned it at a really young age when my grandpa died. One day he was here, the next day he wasn't. He promised me he would come to church with me on Sunday, and then the next day, on that Sunday, he died.
I woke up really early that day, and I was looking forward to picking him up from the hospital and taking him to church with us. My mom came into the living room after I had just got dressed, and she had tears in her eyes.
She sat me down, and told me she needed to tell me something important. I vaguely remember asking her if grandpa was going to join us at church and that's when she started to cry. I didn't know what was going on, or why she was crying, but I knew that I hated seeing my mom cry at that age. Now? Not so much.
But as a child, it hurt to see one of your parents be sad.
It's hard to think about how I took that. I didn't really cry, either. I just remember him not being there anymore. I don't remember him that much, I was only eight when he died.
Needless to say, that was the first and only time we had ever missed church. We didn't attend church that Sunday. We mourned.
"Anna?" Harry's voice knocked me out of my thoughts once again. I blinked hard, glancing towards him before straightening my back as I let out a soft sigh.
"Yeah, sorry, I just--" I mumbled, running a hand through my hair, "I'm just really tired. Do you mind taking me home? I just wanna be alone right now..."
"Oh..." Harry frowned, shifting his body into his seat as he nodded, "Yeah, I can take you back...um...Anything you wanna talk about?"
The car roared as he pulled out of the parking space and started driving back to our apartments. I suppose I had been so closed off, but I just wasn't sure if I wanted to put all of my burdens on him.
"I don't wanna be a burden," I told him quietly, fiddling with the hem of my sweater slowly. He let out a scoff, eyeing me over as he frowned.
"You are most definitely not a burden, Anna. You can talk to me about anything, you know that, right?" He reassured me softly, "I hate when people feel that way when they are with me. I want people to know that they can talk to me about anything. I've always been a big vault of secrets anyways, what's the harm in holding a few more?"
I chuckled, shaking my head at him. I had vaguely remembered spilling my guts to him about my parents when we first met. I was a open book with him because it was so easy. He made it so easy for me to tell him anything.
"Everything that has happened in the last month, it's just a lot to process. I don't really know how to talk about it, I guess," I sucked in a breath, leaning deep against the seat as I gazed towards him, "With my mom, with Zayn... I haven't even seen Zayn in a few weeks either. It was like he just disappeared."
"He doesn't come to church anymore," Harry added.
"See what I mean? It's just...I don't know. Trying to process all this fucking trauma with my mom, it's really hard. I spent all my life thinking my mom was my hero and now it's like, she's changed roles. She's a fuckin' villain," I sighed heavily, running a heavy hand over my face, "I just don't never know what to say about these things. I wish things were different, and I mean, she tried to fucking kill me. Drown me. I'm terrified that one day I'm going to wake up and she's going to be standing over me with a knife, ready to stab me or some shit."
Harry nodded softly, humming so he could let me know he was listening to me.
"I really want a therapist too, but with my job, it's impossible to pay for it," I continued, "I love my job, and I love the kids, but the pay is awful and I just feel like shit. That's all. I don't know. It's just me wallowing in my own self pity and hating myself."
"I can understand that," Harry nodded as he pulled into the parking lot of our complex, "Self loathing is very normal. Shit, even I go through spurts of hating myself. Nobody ever tells us that depression is normal, and that when we feel this way it's not because something is wrong with us, it's just a normal thing people go through."
"I just always thought something was wrong with me," I whispered out, "My mom always told me that God had a plan for me. That he would take care of me, and the things that happen to me are because of God. So, I guess you could expect my surprise whenever all this bad shit started happening to me. I just thought God hated me, it felt like I was cursed."
"I don't think God has a plan for anybody," Harry mumbled, brows pinched as he dazingly stared at the wheel, "I've always said that God has a plan, but he doesn't. I think people say that to make themselves feel better, or to--" He paused, rocking his head side to side in thought, "To make them feel like the path they chose was given to them by God. It's like if I were to punch you in the face and then say, sorry that was god's plan. It's just an excuse. That's all it is, Anna."
"An excuse?" I pouted, sinking into the drivers seat as I let out a huff, "So it wasn't God's plan for me to be brutally beat by my mother all those years?" It kind of made sense. I always thought it was just because I deserved it. Obviously, when I got older, I learned that it was just abuse, but I still had fought myself on whether or not I deserved it.
"No, your mom is just abusive," He said, "Half the people that goes to our church is just there to make themselves feel better about being a shitty fuckin' person. That's all it is. You really think they are there for Jesus? God?" He scoffed as he picked at the strays on his pants, shaking his head, "They are just as scared of God as anybody else is. Nobody is willing to embrace him with open arms. They are terrified to see what their judgement is going to be, and that's why people take religion so seriously. It's scary."
I blinked hard, pushing myself against the car door as I stared at him. I believed what he was saying, but the way he was saying it was kind of scary. It was the kind of truth that sent shivers down your spine.
"People cry in church because they are scared, not because they feel moved. It's all psychological. It's emotional manipulation," He sighed as he pulled the keys out of the ignition, glancing towards me, "I've never met a religious person that had a content look in their eyes. They are all terrified of what's to come, if there is anything to come."
"Oh..." I frowned as we both pushed ourselves out of the car, "What about you? Are you scared, Harry?"
"No," He said easily as he took my hand into his, his thumb running over the back of my hand as we walked towards the entry way, "I'm not scared of what happens because I believe in science. Death is painless, when we all die there is a chemical released in our brain called DMT and it's basically a relaxer. You can not fear death when you look it in the eyes, although it may seem scary at our age. You will feel nothing when you die."
"A priest that believes in science? Isn't that scandalous?" I nudged his arm as we began back up the steps. Harry let out a soft chuckle, peering down towards me with a soft smile.
"I suppose it would be, but that's why you never talk about your beliefs to people in the church. They would have a fucking stroke if they knew I slept with many men in my time," He retorted, "There is a very conservative feeling to being in a church. You get over it though."
"And you wanted to be a priest why?" We reached the top of the steps, taking slow steps towards our apartment doors. Even though I wanted to be alone, I really wasn't ready to end the conversation.
"Hmm.." He hummed, tapping his chin slowly as he pondered in his own thoughts, "I want to save people."
"But you can't save people with religion." I looked up at him with a frown. There was no way he was able to save people. He wasn't a super hero. He was a priest. If the world ended right now, he had no powers to stop it. He was ordinary.
"I never said I was saving them with religion," He said precisely as he pulled the keys out of his pocket, flicking through the various keys on the chain with his lips parted before raising his brows, "I want to save them from themselves."
"So, a therapist? If you want to save people then why would you be a priest? Why not a therapist?" I asked as I watched him unlock his door. He hummed to himself in thought, rocking his head side to side before turning on his heel to face me. He gave me a once over with a deadpan expression.
"Because Anna," He said slowly, surely, so I could understand him, "Majority of people don't listen to therapists."
"So?"
"So?" He half scoffed, half laughed before slumping his shoulders, "They'll sure as hell listen to a priest."
"They'll listen to a priest." I said back to him.
"They will." He said surely.
"A priest." I said again.
"Are you glitching, Anna? Please don't make me repeat myself," He sighed, running a heavy hand through his hair before leaning down to place a soft kiss to the top of my head, "Soon, you will know everything."
I blinked, feeling his lips at the top of my head before completely vanishing. When I opened my eyes, he had retreated back into his apartment. I parted my lips, brows risen in shock.
Why was he so confusing?
And why did I love it so much?