FEED ME.

When we had been summoned to rise by the bell the next morning and then were later gathered in the chapel for Lauds, I could vividly see the tension with which the women carried themselves.

Everyone was waiting for another bomb to go off, every step – a potential trigger for disaster. Even the prayer did not sound so uplifting as it normally would, sung in voices unsure and shaky.

I kept hearing 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘮𝘦 while we prayed but tried to ignore it, though it seemed to become more persistent, louder and more tangible. And every time I heard it echoing in my head, I grew more stressed and agitated. 𝘐 𝘢𝘮 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘤𝘳𝘢𝘻𝘺, I mouthed my mantra. 𝘐 𝘢𝘮 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘤𝘳𝘢𝘻𝘺.

I forgot to mention that it was a Sunday, which meant – a mass. Several, actually. The first sororal mass, that is, to sanctify the day, took place at 7 a.m. right after breakfast which I had barely touched for all I had focused on was a nagging 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘮𝘦. Then the second public one happened 2 hours later, and the third one at 10:30 a.m.

The last mass was quite big and crowded, as not only the locals but tourists showed up, for experience more than for worship. We welcomed them all. And of course the nuns seemed worried. What if this time, god forbid, the building collapsed with all the people inside? Different scenarios came to mind, one scarier than the other. The sisters kept casting their anxieties on Christ.

I remember I sat in the back pew together with Valeria and Dominique when the last mass had begun. The priest, clothed in stunning ivory vestment, blessed the congregation and went on with the Liturgy of the Word – Acts 15:1-6, something about circumcision, something I hardly paid attention to.

His manner of delivery was passionate, vowels prolonged to accentuate the meaning behind the words. It made his turbulent, emphatic voice bounce through every wall in the chapel, starting from where he stood, which was the altar, and ending right where I was, which was near the entrance.

𝘍𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘮𝘦, I heard his voice bounce.

I squeezed my fingers into fists, heart pounding with irritation. 𝘋𝘪𝘥 𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘶𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘴𝘢𝘺 𝘪𝘵? I glared at the priest so hard that if my eyes could shoot laser they'd burn a hole in the man's head. 𝘋𝘪𝘥 𝘩𝘦?

"You okay?" I heard Valeria murmur.

I glared at her instead.

"…remains in me will bear much fruit—" the priest stretched.

"No, I'm not okay. I—" I lowered my voice to whisper, "keep hearing this, 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘮𝘦, 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘮𝘦, 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘮𝘦. I mean constant—"

"𝘐 𝘢𝘮 the vine, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘳𝘦 the branches," the priest's sharp preaching made me wince. I exhaled.

"It's driving me crazy!" I hissed.

Valeria frowned, whispered back, "Feed me? What the hell is 'feed me?'"

I shrugged. "No. Idea."

"When do you hear that?"

"Like, always—"

𝘍𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘮𝘦!

"There!"

I might have said it a bit too loudly: several people turned their heads and the priest halted momentarily. Both Valeria and I turtled our necks into shoulders and sank deeper on the bench.

"Did you hear it?" I gaped at Val hopefully, but she only shook her head no, staring at me like I grew five heads. "No?" I mouthed, disappointed. More like pissed. I was getting very, very exasperated.

"Er…no…?" She mouthed back, brow raised quizzically. "Are you sure you're not…um… " Her finger twisted slowly near her temple. I instantly felt the need to punch her in the throat.

"No-o-o-o!" I mouthed, stretching inaudible vowels like that obnoxious priest. "I'm serious!"

"…will gather them and throw them into a fi-i-i-ire and they 𝘸𝘪-𝘪-𝘪-𝘪-𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘣𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘥."

𝘍𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘮𝘦.

Valeria kept on staring at me like I was demented. Her face told me that she wasn't taking me seriously and evidently this conversation would go nowhere. I decided to close it.

"You know what? I'm just tired," I waved off.

"I would think so."

𝘍𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘮𝘦.

𝘎𝘦𝘵 𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘵. I barked internally, something only a crazy person would do.

I kept on rehearsing my mantra while the mass went on, for 1.5 hours. Then we were to help with the passing of sacramental breads. If you ever went to church then you know how it goes. You come up to a clergy with a Ciborium bowl of hosts and receive yours to a bow or a kiss.

That mass I was to offer consecrated hosts to the congregation. So now I stood with my bowl and watched how the crowd broke down into three lines. Maybe it was because I was starving for not eating my breakfast, or because I was exasperated for hearing stuff, but my line seemed never-ending. And each person took his sweet time to trail over to me. I absolutely hated it.

"Body of Christ." I stretched a wafer to a grandpa who — no kidding — looked like he was about to expire right there right that moment.

"Amen," he wheezed, accepting his blessing. I watched him merge his emaciated body into the fourth "exit" line.

Another person approached, another body of Christ. Another Amen. Then another person, and another. And another. And another. And so on and so forth. Then a mother with a kid approached. The woman let go off her daughter and stepped up to receive her blessing.

"Body of Christ."

"Amen."

She beckoned to the little girl. The latter neared timidly.

"Body of Christ—"

"Feed me!" She barked.

I vividly felt the last fiber of my patience break.

"Screw you! Starve!" I snapped at the baby face in front of me, heart racing like Alfa Romeo at formula-1.

The mother quickly withdrew her child away, watching me — like every other person — with bewilderment and dismay. I felt a hand on my shoulder.

"What!" I snapped again, snapped like that last fiber of patience.

"Hey, hey, Eve, it's alright," Valeria murmured as she simultaneously apologized to the mother of the child that sobbed into her mother's stomach. Sister Catherine approached us hastily.

"What's going on here?"

"Nothing, sister," answered Val, pulling me by the sleeve away from the crowd that was slowly forming around us. "She's just stressed. I'll take her outside to get some air."

The nun gave me a sharp look. "Please do."

We were out in an instant, made our way to the back of the building where, instead of the bright green fields and brilliant blue sky, stretched snow-white flatness and still whiter heaven. It was so white it was horizonless. Even the air felt white, that is, washed of all dirt and now – crisp and pristine. I only had to take one deep breath to clear my head of nasty fog that polluted it. It sobered me up. Then I stared at the blanch unending view before me before Valeria blocked it with her disquieted countenance.

"Are you with me?"

I stared at her, exhaled gravely. "Yeah."

"What was that about?"

"What?"

"That. You know what."

"I told you, I keep hearing shit…"

"What shit. Eve."

"Feed me." I rubbed my forehead.

"Feed me…da' fuck." She muttered under her breath. "Why did you yell at the kid?"

"She said 'feed me'."

"No, Eve, she said 'amen'."

"How do you know what the fuck she said?"

"I fucking stood next to you, 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘰-𝘰-𝘰."

"Well then, you heard 𝘸𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘨." My temples began to throb.

"Girl, I don't know whatchu been smokin' lately, but I heard what I heard. A clear 𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘯."

"So did I! She said 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘮𝘦, goddamnit!" My voice raised to the level of scarce birds flying above us.

"Shhhhh!" Val's eyes went alarmingly round and brows furrowed angrily as she hissed at me. "Calm down! Shit! What is wrong withchu?!"

Those were not the words I wanted to hear from my friend, because the truth was that I did not want to be calm. I wanted to be right. I needed to be right. Because if not, the only other option for me was to be mad. And I was not about to lose my sanity in a fucking monastery.

"You think I'm crazy? Think I'm coo-coo?"

Valeria only stared at me pitifully. Then her face relaxed. It was an understanding face. "I think you're stressed. I get it. We all are. Girl—come here ma-a-a-an." She pulled me into a hug; her lips ever so softly grazed against my ear as she added, "𝘍𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘮𝘦."

My body went cold and rigid, not because her voice whispered those words, sharp and clear, but because of what suddenly flashed before my eyes: everything. I remembered everything I had done three days prior to the disasters that had hit us.

It was like my head were my cell and a light switch had turned "on" at last to illuminate the whole picture. That night. That stupid ritual. That entity. Its horrible voice. 𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘐 𝘥𝘰𝘯𝘦!

The memory of those blinding eyes was so transparent that I felt my eyes water. I squeezed them shut and took another cold deep breath, as deep as I could, to actually calm down. Val pulled me away.

"Hey-y-y-y…I only said the truth. I love you, boo." She smiled. "You know I'm on your side, always will be. Come on, let's get back before we freeze our pretty asses off. You should rest, chill for a while. Don't worry. I'll take care of the abbess."

I wiped my messy face and followed her like a lost, frightened child. Inside of me — nauseating, rising fear.

𝘕𝘰, 𝘝𝘢𝘭, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘴𝘢𝘺, I love you. 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥, feed me.