Note: I'm not a particularly religious girl and haven't been inside a church for a long while. Forgive me if I get some facts wrong...Overall, I'm not especially happy with this beginning, but...Whatever.
Anna
"Anna, dear, are you ready to leave yet?" My mother's voice emanated from behind my bedroom door.
I sighed, furiously rubbing the wrinkles out of my 'special' black dress reserved only for Mass. Every time I got rid of one wrinkle, another wrinkle would pop up in another place, occasionally with reinforcements. I gave up when a particular wrinkle bloomed into a slightly bigger crease.
"Yes, Mother, one moment please. I-I just need to get dressed and we'll be off." I tried to keep the irritation out of my voice and sound like my cheery self, but it just made my voice crack. I winced when my mother commented on it, asking if I had a sore throat. I shook my head, realized she couldn't see it, and responded, "No, just a little tired..."
"Well, I'll leave you to that and wait in the car." She didn't pause for a response and padded away.
I heaved out another sigh and gazed around my room. The room was practically dedicated strictly to Catholicism. From the bible on my night stand, statues of Jesus and Mary, heaps of rosaries, and crosses lining my plain white walls, I was constantly reminded of my faith.
Not to mention that I attended an all girls catholic school, due to my mother's constant paranoia of me even exchanging glances with a boy. She felt that I shouldn't even associate with boys until I was of marrying age. And, thus, I never shared a kiss with a boy, or, heck, even have a full conversation with one. Except, you know, guys in the family or the elderly men and very young boys at mass. If I even so much as greeted a boy, my mother would swoop in, apologize, and usher me away.I admit, I was fairly curious of the opposite sex, but, it didn't particular bother me that I never got to...be with or near one.
I never really had a father figure either. Whenever I asked my mother about my father or ask why she hadn't remarried, she would always respond with an amused smile and say the same admittedly cheesy line, "I'm married to Jesus, dear." Then change the subject to my bible studies.
Speaking of which, that's all I read. The bible or holy scriptures. I was forbidden to read anything else, especially not fantasy or science fiction or any of that.
I never watched television, never played video games, and never listened to music. (The only songs I listened to had to relate to God or Jesus or something to that extent.)
Most people would call this life miserable. However, I don't feel that it is. Granted, I'm not particular happy, but I'm not sad either. I don't know how I feel.
I've had Catholic ideals pounded into my head as soon as I could understand speech, but I never quite grasped it. Don't get me wrong, I love my faith, but sometimes I wonder why I don't carry the same zest for the thing as my mother or the people of the church do. I know I'm supposed to pray before dinner and every night before bed, but I don't know why. I know homosexuality is a sin, but I don't know why.
Anyway, after throwing on the dress, I stumbled down my stairs and outside to where my mother was waiting. Not sharing her feelings of giddiness as we rode to church in her car.
...
After dipping our fingers in holy water and performing the sign of the cross, we took to a pew particularly close to the front. We sat down and waited for the sermon to , as soon as it did, my heart stopped.
Our former priest left due to unknown reasons, so that day, he had a replacement. Who happened to be the most dazzling creature that I had ever laid eyes on.
He was a tall, young looking man, with copper colored hair, large sideburns, and an endearing little splash of freckles across his nose. When he smiled it seemed genuine, and his green eyes were so full of wonder that it seemed to me that everything he looked at, meant so much to him. Like he had been previously blind and wanted to savor every moment of his new found sight. He introduced himself as Hans and made a joke that I didn't hear, but made everyone chuckle warmly. In fact, I didn't hear most of what was being said, too engrossed by his entire being.
Maybe it was my imagination, but he seemed to steal glances at me in particular...Or maybe I was just mistaken.
When it came time for the Sacramental bread, my hands became clammy and my heart quickened its pace. I would be right. In. Front. Of. Him.
In line, I trembled uncontrollably, waves of panic rolling over me every time the person from the head of the line would leave with the bread in their mouths. When it was time for me to accept 'the body of Christ', I was silently praying to God that I wouldn't embarrass myself. As soon as that thought came, I tripped over my own two feet and landed face first in front of him.
I heard a choir of gasps and some giggles from behind me, but other than that, it was silent. I felt hands lift me up and my face grew hot when I was practically face to face with Hans. He wore an affectionate smile and then held out a wafer in front of me. "Body of Christ." He stated, his voice smooth like velvet.
I awkwardly made some inhuman noise, shakily took the wafer, popped it in my mouth, and took the walk of shame back to my seat.
...
After mass was over, some people stayed to congratulate Hans on a job well done...Including my mother and me...Well, mostly my mother, because I had forgotten 17 years worth of English.
"That was absolutely lovely, Father." Mother gushed, giving Hans her full attention, not noticing her red-faced, practically convulsing, daughter at her side.
Hans positively beamed with delight, which didn't help my situation. "That is very kind of you to say." He then looked right at me and gave me an...odd look. "Are you okay, child?"
"F-Fine-" I started, until my mother interjected.
"Oh, Anna? Do you have a fever?" An alarmed expression overtook my mother's features as she stared at me.
Hans continued with his odd look, "I suggest you get her home..." Then he went back to smiling broadly, "See you both next Sunday." His eyes lingered on me, then went back to conversing with the other churchgoers.
...
Hans
Hans paced his apartment, sweat drenching his clothes. Warmth was spreading to...inappropriate places. He continued to pace, mumbling incoherent words to himself, until he couldn't take it anymore and addressed his problem.
He sat on the edge of his bed, pulling his pants to his knees and tugged at his member, growling angrily a particular name to himself and imagining a certain redheaded girl.
When he was done, a smile came to his face, beastly excitement overpowering him in anticipation for the coming Sunday.
Elsa will be introduced next chapter.