Let me know if you can read this chapter. There seems to be a problem with Wattpad and people can't see the chapters after Chapter 10.
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On a Monday night, while we were doing our homework at the kitchen table and Jeremy was watching a show on Bigfoot trucks on TV, Mother went to take a bath.
Clouds of steam grew thick behind the closed bathroom door. Mother loved really hot baths. She rarely took showers. She liked to sit down and relax in the perfumed water and soak her long legs.
Beside the bathtub was a bouquet of eucalyptus branches. Their scent helped create a relaxing ambiance. Eucalyptus has such a calming and relaxing smell.
The water flickered when she moved to reach for the soap bar and green washcloth. The rule "cleanliness is close to Godliness" also applied to body hygiene, so she put extra effort into rubbing her skin vigorously.
Once satisfied, her skin red from both the heat and cleansing, she let her body become submerged in the water. Only her hair floated wildly around her head like seaweed.
As the water entered her ears, she could hear a rumbling noise. She imagined it was the old plumbing of the house, maybe the hot water pipes. But then she also heard murmurs, giggles.
She sat up. She thought it was Audrey and I who had sneaked into her private area to spy on her while she was in the bath. Little devils, she thought.
We were not there. She listened carefully and heard nothing—just the voice of the commentator from the television downstairs.
She brushed it off. It was probably just the pipes. She would have her husband look into it later.
Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. It is simple. Just relax. She let herself soak in the warm water again.
This time, she distinctly heard a voice.
"Be careful, Angie. Evil is near."
My mother immediately stood up, splashing water everywhere around the bathtub. She extended her arm to reach for the towel. Her arm! She stared at it, horrified. The texture of her skin had changed. It was now scale-like, flaky.
She stepped out of the tub, placing her feet carefully on the rug. She was trembling, in shock. What was happening to her? She rushed to the mirror and wiped off the steam with a towel.
What a grotesque view it was! Her hair seemed blonder than ever, as if it had been bleached. She quickly passed her hand through it and a lock fell out. She gasped. She was bald on the left side of her skull.
She opened her mouth in horror. As she stared at herself, a forked tongue came out of her mouth. It was the tongue of a snake. She had no control over it.
She screamed and tried to run out of the bathroom, but fell down on the slippery tiles. My father ran in. He still had his work clothes on.
"What is it?" he asked, helping her to get up on her feet.
She looked at herself in the mirror again. She touched her wet hair that had returned to her darker brown color. She was back to normal.
"I heard a voice and my reflection in the mirror...it was..."
My dad looked at her. He did not understand her. He gave her the towel so she could cover herself. Nudity was a sin. She was his wife, but he was uncomfortable.
"Marie!" she screamed.
I ran upstairs, knowing I had to hurry before she became impatient.
"Yes, Mother?"
"Have you been talking to your friend again?"
"What friend?" I pondered. I did not have friends.
"You know what I mean. The ghost."
"Ana?"
"Are you playing dumb with me?"
"No..."
"Yes, Ana. Are there other ghosts in the house apart from her?"
"Maybe, sometimes I think so, but other times I think I am dreaming. In any case, I only talk to Ana," I replied.
"What? There are other ghosts?"
"Maybe, but I don't know them."
"I heard a voice," she said. She looked shocked; she looked fragile. "There were people laughing."
She was trembling. I felt sympathy for her. I did not understand her, but I felt sympathy.
"Do you know of any ghosts having to do with water or snakes?" she asked, shaking my shoulders.
"Water? Those are not ghosts. They are nymphs. I told you I had seen mermaids, but they were nymphs. You saw them too?" I suddenly became excited and happy to have something in common to share with my mother.
"They are evil. Evil is near. Why are you smiling?" She was not afraid anymore. She was angry. At me.
"You are the evil one. You are the one attracting these creatures. Evil only brings evil," she said. She looked at my dad and added, "What will we do with her? We need to bring her to the pastor. He might know how we can purify that lost child."
Could that be true? Even Daddy said mermaids were the creatures of the devil. If they were, nymphs certainly were too. I could not be sure what Ana was either. Mother said she was a ghost. I am quite sure ghosts were not good either. Oh, Lord! What have I done? I talked with the devil and he seduced me into his mischievous play.
"You have to do something with her," my mother said to the pastor after the following Sunday's mass. Daddy, Jeremy, and Audrey were waiting for us at Brother Richard's house where we were invited for dinner. "I have her praying for hours every night, reading nothing but the Bible, but she is still evil!"
"Sister Angie, she is only a child."
"She doesn't accept the word of God. She keeps talking to demons. And now they are attacking us!"
"Are you sure the demons have anything to do with her?"
"Yes! You think I am crazy, don't you? She is evil. She summons them. She admits it. She says they are her friends!"
"Marie, do you have anything to say?" asked the pastor bending down in front of me so our heads would be at the same height.
I said nothing.
"All right," said the pastor. "I will put oil on her head and say a few prayers. I need to see someone else first though, so if you could kindly wait outside the office for a while."
My mother grabbed me by the arm and brought me outside. We sat in the church pews. I did not like those seats. If we sat on them too long, it hurt. They were so hard. None of them matched each other either. It was as if they salvaged them from Catholic churches that were throwing them out. Some were a light wood color, others darker. They were all of different shapes, boxy or triangular.
I had a hat. My mother said that when she was a kid, she had to go to church with a hat and gloves. I did not wear gloves, but I was quite fond of my hat. It had a big white flower on it. It went with my floral princess dress.
Clack, clack, clack. A woman with hard heels walked down the aisle. She entered the pastor's office. The latter greeted her warmly with a large grin.
My mother's mouth was pursed. She stared at them, clearly disapproving of something. She snarled and commented aloud (although I knew she was not addressing me and that I should avoid answering back), "Her skirt is too short. The pastor should tell her. What is he waiting for?"
I remember her dress. I found it kind of pretty. The woman was blonde and her skirt was shorter than usual, but she was still elegant in an Audrey Hepburn kind of way. She was not dressed like a prostitute like. I must be evil for thinking this way. The devil was again trying to seduce me. Shut up! My mind would not shut up!
We waited for a long time. Finally, the pretty lady came out, all smiles. My mother gave a suspicious glare at the pastor.
"Goodbye, Sister Alanis. Always a pleasure to see you," waved the pastor.
Sister Alanis turned her back to him and the sound of her shoes echoed again off of the church's walls.
There was something weird going on between them. Even I could feel it. Something wrong.
"Angie, Marie. If you would please come in."
We stepped into the pastor's office. He had me sit down on a chair in front of his desk, poured a few drops of a liquid onto my hair, put his hands on my head, and started praying.
Apparently, he thought he had magic hands. I would not dare to contradict him, but I wondered why his hands were magic and not the nymphs or Ana? What made him so special?
The prayer had no effect on me. I was the same old me. There was nothing different. I was either a lost cause or I was not possessed by a demon at all. But I sometimes felt that I hated my mother, so I must be evil. It was a sin to feel that way toward the person who gave birth to you.
My Mother also saw that it did not work. I felt so ashamed that she knew my secret. She knew I was still evil. And the evil thing that was eating me was stronger than the pastor. He could not cure me.
I decided I should atone for my faults twenty-four hours a day, or at least try my best. I brought my Bible to school and read it in class and I read it at recess. I would look up at the dark sky, at the clouds passing by bringing darker ones and lighter ones. "You are bad," said the dark clouds. "You are better," said the light clouds. They were signs from God. God talked to me through the clouds.
I spoke to no one. I never spoke. Mother had no idea what I was dealing with. If I kept my mouth shut, she would not hit me—she might even hate Jeremy and Audrey less or love them more. Yes, she might actually love them. It was too late for me, but she could try to love them. Before they turned bad too, before they became like me, before they became friends with nymphs and ghosts.
"Could you tell me why it is only you the ghost talks to?" asked my mom.
I did not know. Maybe because I was the most evil?
"Marie, do you really think I am evil?" asked Ana.
Both of them were standing in front of me. I had to pick a side. Right or wrong. Which one was which?
"God gave you the right of agency. You must have chosen the wrong path somewhere...or maybe you were just born like that. You were always a difficult child after all," added my mom.
"Do not forget who told you bedtime stories, who listened to you when she was being unfair?"
Was she really unfair? She hit me but I also gave myself similar inflictions. I also hurt myself to become good. I wanted to be pure; she wanted me to be pure. She saw through me all along. She always saw me for what I really was.
"I am tired of seeing your face. Just go to your room," ended my mom, pushing the back of my head to let me know I'd better disappear fast.
When I arrived in my bedroom, Ana was already there standing behind the door. I sighed as if I knew she would continue to argue about her righteousness. Her glare followed every one of my moves as I got ready to go to bed.
Once under the blankets, she broke the silence.
"I will leave you in peace, but I just want to tell you one more thing. I had nothing to do with what your mother saw in her bathroom, nor with your grandmother talking to your mother. You humans seem to have a difficult time separating the reality with illusions, life with dreams. I am your friend. I have always been here when you wanted me to be. I will be here as long as you want me to be, but I am not here to haunt the house. I am here to be with you and if you decide not to see me again, I will leave you in peace. It simply pains me, however, that you think of me as evil."
I did not speak. I did not want to talk to a ghost as long as I believed it was wrong to do so. It would just encourage her. It would just have made her come back more and more.
I had to admit, however, that what she said rang true. My mother described a scene with water and snakes. Ana had nothing to do with that. She might be innocent. It was not because one creature is evil that all the others should pay for his or her faults. It would be unfair. I wanted to be fair.
Nevertheless, I did need to know if the haunting scenes that occurred in my house were related to me in any way. Was I the one causing my mother's distress? When she came out of that bathroom, she was trembling with fear. She looked so delicate that I felt as if I was the queen again, as if I was in control again and was able to protect her like when I was two years old and hugged her in my arms and wiped away her tears.
An idea suddenly crossed my mind. I smiled at my friend. I knew I had to share this with him.
"Ana!" I said with great enthusiasm. "Mother said that I was the only one to have seen the nymphs and I am the only one to whom you will talk. She says that this happens because I am evil and that only evil brings evil."
"Yes...." she answered, not sure where I was going.
"Well, she also saw the nymphs. She saw you and she saw grandmother."
"So you think she is evil?"
"I don't wanna say that. I don't think I am that evil, because I don't mean to be bad, I just am. And she must be like me. Do you think it's possible?"
"Very," she said, smiling.
I felt she forgave me for having doubted her. I always preferred to sleep with a peaceful mind. I found it too uncomfortable to try to fall asleep with the idea that someone was angry with me. This usually led to tears and nightmares. It was heartbreaking and anguishing. I hated it.