Easter was only a few days away, as such they didn't have time for a proper send off. A funeral would have been nice, not just tossing her decaying corpse into a wooden box and covering it with loose soil. Gil was the only one who went to place flowers on her 'grave', if you could even call it that. Her own family now distant as ever, not even showing up to see their own daughter off. Not that it surprised him, he had a functioning frontal lobe, he understood what happened.
'After what happened he refused to marry you.' Gil thought, 'And the family you tried so hard to protect was now against you. Its okay Catherine, rest now.'
While he sounded composed, his mind wandered. His eyes ached for tears, and his mouth dry. And he could feel it, an overwhelming sea of anger washed over him. A feeling he wasn't accustomed too. All he did was stare at her hanging body, the entire time thinking…
WHY?
Now he still stood staring at the hole they villagers managed to dig. A shallow one barely 4 feet deep. The more he stared, the angrier he got.
"#####***####." He chanted a prayer with his hands clasped together, to help calm his nerves. Only for the moment.
YES, FOR NOW.
"Sir Gil!" A voice called in the opposite direction. The same field where everyone else lay somewhere down beneath the top soil. There bodies decaying.
"Your presence is required back at the church."
Their eyes met and for a moment Gil wasn't there. His body hollow.
"Yes." He finally said, unsure of whether it was to himself or to the random member of the church who had come to call him.
Wasting no time he turned, his back to her. He clenched his fists. With no word, he left.
Just like everyone else.
There is an interesting story in the bible that Gil was always fond of. One that he read every night. The story of Sodom and Gomorrah. As Lot (The nephew to Abraham) Was escaping Sodom a city filled with sexual sin. The lord had commanded Lot to flee with his family and not look back. However, his wife turned to look at the destruction.
Right there and then she was turned into a pillar of salt.
While it doesn't seem that important in the grand scheme of things, it does have a relevance. Whenever he red this text always wondered…
"Why did she have to look back." God had given clear cut instructions for them not to look bck at the destruction that unfolded in the city.
WHY DISOBEY HIM?
"Now look at you." He said, "Just a pillar of salt and broken dreams.
Whatever dreams and aspirations she had were now null and void. She was now nothing, made to stare at the city's destruction's. Evils others had committed she had to look at them, unable to both help and do anything about it. Just watch, for until the pillar erodes an eternity awaited her.
"What happened is very unfortunate." Sister July spoke with a yawn. Gil arrived back at the cathedral.
"However it doesn't diminish any of the current events that are required to happen. You understand little Gilly?"
NOD
A weak 'yes' crawled from his mouth. His throat itchy, his eyes red, nothing else could he offer. Sister July sighed, "Why so glum?"
She got behind him and gave him a hug, "How special was she to you?"
"…."
"Mh?" She held his chin, "Who killed her?"
SHE KILLED HERSELF!
"…."
"Mh?" She pulled him closer to her face, "What will you do now that she's dead?"
His eyes widened.
WHO WILL YOU DIRECT YOUR ANGER TOWARDS?
A feeling of dread creeped up, dispair and hoplesssness and something else. Even sister July could feel it.
BLOODLUST!
"Oh Gilly." Their lips almost met as she whispered, "Do you want to kill someone?"
'Gil help me!'
Catherine's blood cried out. The blood soaked into the deeps of the earth.
"No!" Gil pushed her. He took a deep breath, he had held his breath that entire time.
Sister July stared at him then yawned again, "If you're suffocating, go get some air." She turned to leave, not glancing back. 'Don't disappoint me.'
"How could I?" He didn't want to admit it but he thought about it. He thought of taking another man's life.
HOW COULD I?
He stummbled onto his feet, and ran towards the alter. With both his knees on the ground he clasped his hands together.
HOW COULD I?
**********************************************
"Call…mih, morning?"
"Call me in the morning." Gil corrected her, "You forgot in and the."
Catherine wasn't too great at English, in fact she couldn't stand the prospect of having to learn another language. Kiswahili was actually the only language she needed.
"Kwani, ni lazima? (Is it a must?)" She asked.
"Sindio, kama unataka kuenda shule. (Of course, especially if you wanna go to school.)"
She frowned. She was very annoyed, annoyed that she had to learn another language to go to school.
"Hawawezi kunifundisha kutumia kiswahili? (Can't they teach me in kiswahili?)
"You've barely grasped anything." Gil teased but followed with an encouragement, "Let's work hard together."
"Hmph!"
While it was hard at the beginning the two finally came to a compromise . For every kiswahili word she knew she had to translate to English. They used to meet at her place but after Gil was appointed as an alter boy he couldn't go there all the time, so she came to him.
There he taught her more than just English. Prayer fundamentals, the purpose of God and her own cosmic importance in the world.
Their one on one turned into one on two, then three, then ten, then soon, children from every corner of the village came. They crowded around him like a campfire on a cold winter night. Back then it felt as though he wasn't just staring at the city's destruction, rather he made a difference.
WHAT WENT WRONG?
The bishop finally came into power as the new ruler, and the cathedral halls no longer echoed with joy. Everything good within these walls eroded with immorality, and the stentch of sin suffocated all those who dared entered. Soon nobody came for prayers anymore.
WHO'S FAULT IS IT?
The bishop!
WHO
THE BISHOP!
H-O!?H-E B-I-S-H-O-P!
WHAT WILL YOU DO?
WHat can I do?
'If you're suffocating go get some air."
SUFFOCATING GET? AIR
I need to breath.
Suddenly Gil's opened, and he found himself in a dark room. His eyes taking their sweet time to adjust. He had no recollection of what happened after he went to sleep. He stretched his hands, tracing them against the wall. He sat in a corner, pushing against it he rose.
"This isn't my room." He deduced from the smell alone, the room smelt of perfume and women, the kind used to hide female stentch. The room itself also seemed too expansive to be his. He turned his hand along the wall. The rooms within the cathedral had switches that produced.
Probably sorcery.
He felt it, the switch.
FLICK!
His eyes darted around. The site horrified him, something about it.
The bishop laid on his bed, naked his clothes stained in blood, he couldn't breath. At least not anymore.
NO.4 END!
TO BE CONTINUED!