Work Text:
STUDENT NAME : Kimberly Lilliana-Shelley Hartley
AGE : 15
DATE OF BIRTH : 1983/2/15
Kimberly “Kim” is not as problematic as her peers; high grades, participating in service, keeping neat overall. However, she is suspected to be in a romantic or sexual relationship with friend Dorothy Ruby Abbott. Keep separated as much as possible.
☦︎
5:30 AM. I couldn’t sleep despite my eyes feeling heavy as weights, I saw the morning creeping through the curtains behind me, shining onto the freshly swept wooden floors of the dorm. Marybeth was still fast asleep, her soft snores filling the depressingly empty room. I gazed over to the door, our calendar nailed against it. Today was circled in red: ‘ FEB 17, 1999: ASH WEDNESDAY!!!! ’ I groaned and rubbed my eyes in disdain, Ash Wednesday meant morning mass, and morning mass meant no breakfast for hours.
Even getting out of bed was a struggle. My legs were sore from our two mile walk through town yesterday, a rare treasure nowadays, even if we’re accompanied by Sister Madeline. I put on my slippers as quietly as I could, trying my hardest not to wake Marybeth, she needed her sleep more than any of us. I gently opened the door to our bathroom and started getting ready, splashing cold water on my face to attempt and soothe the sleep still lingering in me.
Looking in the mirror I saw my own physiognomy, jet black hair all tangled, bangs greasy, pores visible, and a circular face “like a dinner plate” as said by Sister Marie. I ran my brush through my hair then began my morning ritual of putting it into its signature twin braids. I chose purple hair ties at the end today. I combed through my bangs one more time for good measure.
I walked out and Marybeth was still fast asleep, drool running down her chin as she continued to toss and turn herself in her dreaming state. I opened our shared closet and got into our so-called “Holy Day of Obligation Uniform” which just meant an oxford button up instead of our regular polo and a lace veil.
I hated the button up. I had hit a growth spurt last year, and my parents are too lazy to get me new uniforms, now Mr. Jameson requests me to come to his office, and I have to suddenly become ill that day. I knew today he would probably ogle me and my peers while we were walking back to our pews after receiving our ashes. He always did.
Under my shirt I hid the necklace Dorothy gave me. On the front was Our Lady of Guadalupe and the back had a capital ‘D’ carved into it. I always wore it; to sleep, in the shower, to school, over the summer at home, everywhere.
Once I was ready I quietly made my way to the door and as sneakily as I could walked across the hall to Dorothy’s room. She was for sure awake by now, that girl never sleeps over 5 hours. As seen by her dark circles and eyebags decorating her face.
I said a prayer that Sister Madeline wouldn’t be awake already or wake up anytime soon. I still had 25 minutes to talk to Dorothy, maybe sneak a kiss or two.
As I expected, her door was unlocked. I slid it open quietly and there she was. Awake and cutting her nails on her bed, still in her pajamas.
Her face lit up when she saw me, dimples forming shadows in her face as the morning light shined on her golden hair and dark green eyes. I felt a cheeky smile form on my face as I closed the door as quietly as I could, then whispered to her.
“Is Kayla asleep?” Kayla, her roommate who we were both friends with.
“Knocked out, she snuck out and got hammered last night so we’ll be fine ‘till Madeline comes shouting.” Her voice was coated with sleepy rasp, despite her most likely having been awake for hours now.
“Just how I like it.” I shuffled over to her bed and kicked off my slippers as she caught me in an embrace I wish could last for ages.
I could look at her for centuries, every time I see her I wonder what I’ve done to deserve her. God painted her with shades of aureate running down her body, the most gorgeously shaped figure that belongs in a museum, guarded away from anyone undeserving of gazing at it.
I sat up and began to kiss her, a plethora of emotions running through my chest, stomach, and mind, all translating through my lips on hers.
Even though I adored every second of it, I could feel the eyes staring upon me. The crucifix hung at the top of the door, Christ’s bloody body elevated directly behind me. His eyes saw our sin, I felt as if I was torturing Him, my savior. How could we put Him through such pain after all He has done for us and will continue to do for us? And on the holy day, marking the start of Lent, I had the audacity to start my day with defying the Truth.
I heard the hand of the clock tick another minute, and as if snapping us back to reality we stopped our embrace and stared into each other’s eyes. I could see the guilt in hers. We had been thinking the same thing. Her hands on my waist and head were shaking, and I saw as her eyes moved behind mine. Staring at the door.
“I should go, Sister Madeline will wake up soon.” I started to make my way out of her arms and tidy up myself.
“Yeah, you’re right. I’ll see you at mass.” She began to get out of bed and shake Kayla awake.
“Yeah, I-“ love you “-will see you then.” I closed the door quietly behind me. I couldn’t get myself to say it.
I heard noises coming from Sister Madeline’s room down the hall, and started making a run for my room, luckily colliding into my room and closing the door before hearing the Sister’s open.
Marybeth had woken up at last and was getting ready, putting on her lace veil and pinning wild hairs away from her forehead, which reminded me that I’d have to do my least favorite thing in the world: pin my bangs back. Curse my fuckass forehead.
“Meeting with the girlfriend?” She asked, palming pomade though her hair to tame the frizz.
“Yeah, nearly got busted though.”
I grabbed two clips that were laying on my nightstand and pinned back my bangs, revealing my stupidly huge forehead.
“Fuck my life.” I mumbled.
Momentarily we heard Sister Madeline’s bangs on the door and yells loud enough to wake the whole country, we yelled back that we were awake, and coming down soon.
☦︎
I saw her while we were walking to the chapel. She was a bit ahead of me, talking to Alondra while fussing with her veil - she hated wearing it. I slowly became focused on the back of her head, I could still see bits of hair falling down under her veil, ever since she was banned from cutting it after a crisis it’s been nonstop growing. I saw that her shirt wasn’t tucked into her skirt, one of the sisters was sure to remind her about it.
“Someone’s entranced.” Bonnie’s voice beside me startled me and knocked me out of my thoughts.
“Yeah, I guess.”
“I heard you two had a steamy moment this morning in the dorms.” She nudged my elbow, teasing me.
“How the fuck did you find out?”
“Kayla, duh.”
“That bitch,” of course I wasn’t calling her an actual bitch, but Lord was I embarrassed.
“Listen, we didn’t know she was awake, okay?”
“I’m just teasing, Kim, you know I wouldn’t tell. As long as she didn’t tell Bernadette or someone like that the sisters won’t know a thing.”
Bonnie was my wingwoman - actually, she was everyone’s wingwoman. She knew how to make anyone laugh. She says she has to compensate for her unwholesome appearance somehow, but I don’t think she’s *that* unattractive. It was just some bitches who got to her head and made her hate herself even more.
I could tell she had been thinking about her looks lately, seeing the deep red marks on her face, right under her nose and to the right above her lips where her dark mole was. Her nails had also been cut, most likely forcefully by the school psychologist after seeing what she’d done to her face. I could tell the marks were going to turn into scabs any minute, which she would evidently pick off and develop even more scars.
As we turned into the doors of the chapel, I felt all the guilt and shame of my life hit me in the face, as if all the sin I’ve ever committed formed into a fist and punched me in the gut.
The organ was loud, you could hear it from outside the chapel, it was the familiar sound of impending doom. The smell of incense flooded my nostrils, attacking me and nearly causing my eyes to tear up. At the front of the church, surrounded by stained glass murals, was the crucifix. Once again.
I tried not to look at it, staring at my hands fidgeting with one another. But I could feel Him, I could feel the angels in the glass watching me, the Holy Mother gazing at me from across the church.
Diverting my attention elsewhere, in an attempt to run away from the shame I felt, I somehow made it worse by staring at Dorothy. She was sitting in the pew in front of mine. I sat directly behind her and now I could smell her body spray layering with the smell of incense, the fumes travelling to my brain filled me with feelings of peace for just a moment. Until Father Michael told us to rise.
☦︎
The ashes dragged slowly across my head while I listened to the echoing phrase “Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return.”
I crossed myself and began my prayer as I made my way back to the pew, kneeling on the newly cushioned kneelers.
‘Forgive me Father, I am a sinner.’ I began,
‘I have committed a damnable offence, I have strayed from your light. The devil has infected my mind flooding it with sinful thought and my body forcing it into sinful actions. I, a sinner, am responsible for betraying you and your teachings. Please, most Holy Father, guide me back to your grace, rid my mind of thoughts of other women.’
I could feel tears starting to form in my eyes.
I started reciting the memorare over and over again until I was interrupted with the continuation of service, where I had to look up and see her ahead of me once again, the cross lingering above her staring directly at me.