Celia

1 New Guy In Town

Gio

I park my motorcycle uphill and look at the church under the starry-black night. It's quiet and desolate, only hint of life from the crickets in the grass and the summer breeze.

Dirt crushes under my boots as I approach, opening the splintered door. The stained-glass windows glint in the moonlight, bouncing colors on the biblical paintings around.

The wooden floor creaks and echoes as I hesitate down the nave, passing tables of candles that waft the air. I sit in the front aisle and set my helmet down.

Is it disrespectful to pray with a leather jacket on? I take it off just in case and bow my head.

Hello? Fuck, this is so awkward— shit, I didn't mean to— sorry, I did it again.

I grimace at the statue of Jesus by the altar.

I hope it's okay that I'm here so late, I couldn't sleep. Plus I hate people, no offense.

It's been over a year since Vivien's left, but Ariana's not getting any better. I'm trying my best, but I'm failing. I'm just not enough.

Please, send someone who can look after my girl while I... do that thing that I'm not supposed to do.

I have no choice. It's the only way. The only way to give her the future she deserves.

Please... help me. Send me someone.

Okay. Amen.

I put my jacket back on and grab my helmet to leave, counting the million babysitters Ariana has traumatized in the last twelve months.

Granted they were city people with thin skins and overbooked lives. This small suburb might bring peace to both of us—

My mind stops when a female quietly hums.

What the fuck?

I dart my eyes around the empty aisles and shut windows, seeing no one.

"Are you a ghost?" I whisper. Because I don't want to die.

Tip toeing to leave, I rotate when I realize the sounds are from the confessional to my left.

My pulse quickens as I brace to sprint out, almost face-planting on the ground when the sounds become moans.

Oh my God, it's a horny ghost.

I look over my shoulder at Jesus, squeaking 'help, man' in my head.

"Please..." She whimpers and my body turns rigid. This could be a woman in trouble.

So I drop my helmet, pumped with adrenaline to throw the attacker out. My hand clenches into a fist as I jerk the door wide, lip curling into a snarl—

Then I freeze.

As I stare at a woman.

Who's staring back, as slack-jawed as me.

She's young. She's got dark hair. And she has her hand between her thighs.

Her blue skirt is bunched around her hips and her face is flushed, large eyes wide like a deer caught in the headlights.

Then she screams.

So loud it can break glass. I can't even wince before she jumps and shoves me away, sprinting out of the church.

It takes me a few seconds to shake out of it. I run out, but she's disappeared. I see nothing but dark hills and scattered houses all around.

What the...