At the Church of Jetkins (2)
19th November
Believing that I might have a typical school day yet, a man in a long brown robe with a hoody appeared in my sight. Several meters away from me, sitting under a shade of a tree. He's a man about five and a half feet based on his physical standing: those broad shoulders and wide-body.
He stands out from the rest of the students who’s talking and wondering as it's break time. His brown suit is not an appropriate one here inside the campus.
I'm not sure if he's looking at my side, but chilling sensation and creepiness numb my system. How can he do that? Who is he?
As to my question, he lifted his head and directed his piercing eyes through me. Black, dark circles under his eyes, a mischievous grin formed in his lips, and marks of scratches on his cheeks.
Feeling feared and nervous at the same time, I still didn't cut my stare. There's a thing telling me to look at that guy straight through his eyes, for he had the answers.
Minutes of exchange of looks, he desperately leaves his place, giving me a crumpled forehead. Without a second thought, I find my way, following him. I'm too curious about him being here and looking at me.
He's not that hard to follow as his robe protrudes from the rest. Until he goes out from the gate and about to pass the road, a truck of load happens to crush with him. His body was left lifeless, and blood covered the road.
From my position, I saw his head tilted and look in my direction, eyes wide open.
***
A woman in her green halter dress let her way out of the church front door, leaving Asst. McLinn was waving her hand and a grin smile. And in her typical black taste of fashion.
"Thank you so much to the holiest reverend."
As I deliver the woman by sight, my feeling of indignant arises again. With stamping feet, I ramp the staircase of this church while Asst. McLinn was eyeing me intently. Lost her grin and was replaced by a blank one.
I stopped in front of her with a stoic face; I started a conversation. I don't want her to feel my rage upon the reverend. She's out of the picture as the reverend was the one with me while doing the prayer. She's nowhere to be found at that moment.
"I want to talk to Reverend Scott."
"Follow me," she answered with a smile and led the way.
As with the first encounter, she left me at the center in front of their high platform, where a natural spotlight lit. Nothing changes after a month. It's still the empty church. Maybe tomorrow it'll be filled.
Before I could forget what's my true intent, the amused face of the reverend surface. Still, on his typical robe, Reverend Scott manages to walk fast and held my shoulders tightly. A warm sensation filled my body, but I struggled. My fume is somewhat immense again. It may not be nice to do, but I have to.
"I want to clarify things up, Reverend," I said to him quickly as I combed my hair to calm myself a little, but I can't. Those sensations he gave me somehow lessen my madness, but it should not.
"Does the above still guided me?" with enough stress given to each word I ask.
He got silent. Put his hand under his chin and swallowed by his thoughts. I got impatient and wanted to ask him again when he first spoke.
"The power of the enemy is too strong. The first prayer could not withstand their force." In his last sentence, he looked at me. Worried and pity his eyes express.
My chest heaved. My fight against those nightmares is not yet over. But it's more than a month.
Why didn't he make it sure? I felt betrayed and deceive in trusting him at first. I thought it'll all be stopped as he's the known reverend. I was having these again seem traumatic.
"You must do a thing for this, reverend. Please, get rid of these hallucinations! I don't want to suffer anymore!" angrily I stated as my eyes didn't let go of his sympathetic eyes. "Please."
Being vulnerable sometimes letting someone see you in your weak state, but that's not the point. It's for your safety and sanity.
"Calm down, Romu. I'll help you," the reverend comforted me. Tap my right shoulder slowly. "Help yourself first."