Still Water

The Lord Works in Mysterious Ways

A/N: There's some religious angst in this chapter. I'd like to apologize in advance in case I offend someone with my words; I promise that was not my intent. I respect all religions and was raised Catholic, myself. This chapter is less about religion and more about Astrid projecting her thoughts and feelings onto someone else. She's hurt and trying to find someone to blame for her problems.

Some people believe that we are our truest selves in the darkness of the night. Maybe it's because we are free from the prying eyes of the day, or maybe it's because our demons come out to play when the sun goes down. For whatever reason, Astrid's body never failed to come alive at the break of dusk. She would sometimes joke that she was a vampire because she often wished she could sleep during the day and function in the absence of light.

This night, in particular, Astrid Dinwiddie found herself wandering the abandoned streets of the coastal town. She wasn't dressed appropriately for the chilly June evening, and she found herself regretting her decision to leave her jacket at home. It was about 3:00 A.M. when she left the stifling prison she called home, wearing her favorite blue cotton shorts and a very breezy white tank.

The hair on the back of her neck raised, and her skin crawled with a familiar feeling. This time her comfort wasn't due to the uncharacteristic bite of the night air; she was being watched. Astrid was unable to resist the urge to look back and turned her head in all directions, frantically searching for someone lurking in the darkness.

And there goes my evening, she sighed. Attempting to appear calm, she continued walking like nothing was out of the ordinary. Think, Astrid, think! the teen commanded. Not only are you way too young to die, but you aren't dressed appropriately for the occasion either. Hell House is at least another twenty minutes down the road, and this part of town is largely residential. Stores and restaurants are all closed at this hour, and the gas station is in the exact opposite direction.

Astrid's only option was the church.

The brunette hadn't set foot in a church in years. Now, as she panted in her hiding place between the rows of pews, she wondered, Is it a sin to use a church for my own selfish needs?

When it became clear that her stalker wasn't going to follow her into the religious sanctuary, Astrid quietly picked herself up off of the floor. The Williston-Immanuel United Church was aglow with warmth. Lanterns hung from the ceiling and rows of candles lined the walls. The arched, looming ceilings and towering pillars gave her the urge to cling to her mother's side.

Now I remember why I hated going to church, Astrid reminisced, walking down the center aisle to the first row of pews.

The polished pine bench was cold and hard against the bare skin of her thighs. The teen hadn't expected the church to be roaring with life in the wee hours of a Sunday night; still, the emptiness was unsettling. Astrid felt naked and exposed in the ethereal chapel.

"I guess this is the part where I'm supposed to talk to you, Big Guy," Astrid whispered. Her quiet voice echoed in the cavernous space, "We aren't on the best of terms, you and me—I know that. That's my fault. Can you really blame me, though?" She wondered aloud, "How am I supposed to know if you're really out there? They all say that I have to 'have faith,' but it doesn't work. It's not that simple! You can hope for people to be out there, to be there for you in your time of need, to be looking out for you. It only ends in disappointment for me." Astrid balled her fists in frustration as a tear rolled down her cheek. Furiously, she wiped it away.

"Am I supposed to spend my life shouting into the wind?" She spoke louder this time with conviction and pain in her voice. "Am I supposed to know that my pleas aren't falling on deaf ears? I don't feel your embrace. I don't feel your love! Why should I waste my whole damn life trying to please someone who only has empty promises for me?" Astrid was shouting now. Her tears fell freely, and for once, she was glad to be alone. She hated when people saw her cry.

The young girl remembered why she had stopped going to church in the first place. As her walls collapsed under the veil of night, Astrid felt as lost as she had when she was a little girl. Every Sunday, without fail, she would attend church with her parents. The small child's forehead would crease with exertion as she begged God to make her parents love her, to bring them home to her.

The Big Man never answered, and Astrid lost hope. Eventually, her parents stopped coming home on weekends—she was free of the shackles of faith that bound her to the church.

The brunette chuckled bitterly in her throat. Look at you now, A Cakes—still broken, unloved, and blaming a deity that may not exist for all of your problems. She accused, Maybe try taking responsibility for your actions and your life for a damn change. No one's gonna kiss it and make it better.

Astrid took a deep breath before tilting her head towards the sky. "Maybe...Maybe you were right." She confessed, "I think, perhaps, I could have had faith in the wrong thing. Instead of having faith that others would pull through, maybe I was supposed to have faith that I would be okay despite all the bad things. Is that it? Am I supposed to believe in myself?"

As expected, the teen received no answer to her pressing questions. Well, it's not like you were expecting anything, she huffed, leaving the church. Have faith, Dinwiddie, have faith. We're gonna be just fine. In one more year, you can fly the coop and do whatever the hell you want. You'll be an adult, and you can finally make a life for yourself. You've got what it takes—only one more year until you're out of the woods.