Thomas.

Thomas.

He wouldn’t have being the first, and rather doubtful he’ll be the last. Many had chosen this hiding place. It was a respectable hiding place, At least in the view of the older people. The true believers. Yeah,those ones with the blinds pulled firmly down in front of there eyes. It wasn’t like it was a prison sentence, although to some it wasn’t far from it. No women. Not much alcohol. A false front, of caring, compassion, and interest in others. But what happens behind the doors of a religious order, never has to reach the knowledge of the outsiders.

    As he lay in front of the Bishop, on the altar. He and the three other victims, or should I say cowards. Well he and the other men running away and hiding from life. From themselves. Their friends and families in the Church looked on with pride. What an honour to have  a family member in the priesthood. Surely that would ease the passage of all associated with the new religious entrant into heaven. Hardly going to work against them.
               As Thomas lay on the altar, while the bishop conducted the very long, drawn out ceremony. Thomas with his arms outstretched to his sides, and his face down in the red carpet. Striving to cope with the current discomfort. The coldness of the Church. The hardness of the ground he was laying on. He reflected on what had brought him to this situation. To this choice. Was it really the only choice he had. Could he yet run from the scene before  it was too late. Before he was inducted into the priesthood.

That Certainly Would Be Unheard Of, And A Total Unforgivable Scandal In 1930’s Ireland. His Mind Turned To Her. She Was Never Far His Mind Now. The Forbidden Love. She Was Older, A Lot More Mature Than Her Fourteen Years. In Looks, Manner, And Outlook. But It Could Never Be. Not Now, Not Ever, He Told Himself, Many Many Times, As He Twisted And Turned alone in his bed at night.
                                 But The Deep Feelings Of Love, Or Was It Just Lust, He Wondered, Were Impossible To Hide From Himself. True Yes She Was The First Female To Show Any Real Feelings Of Warmth Towards Him. But He Had Heard Of How Many Young School Girls Fall In Love With There Teachers, But Very Seldom Would They Fall In Love With A Guard. Solid,Upstanding,Member Of The Community. This Was One Secret He Knew He Could Never Let See The Light Of Day.
                His Mind Travelled Back, How On That Sunny Day, As They Walked Along The Clifftop, Alone And Out Of Sight Of Others. That’s The Way It Had To Be. She Spoke Of Her Wishes For The Future. How Happy She Was, The Prospect Of A Family With Him, A Long Life Ahead Of Them.
           She Reached For His Hand. He Hesitated, And Suggested Instead, She Loop Her Arm Through His.

’It Will Look More Innocent’,

She Smiled And Laughed In Response. As They Continued To Walk Along The Cliff Top In The Warm Sunshine. Valuing Their Time Alone Together. He Teased And Chided Her For Missing Out On School To Spend Time With Him. She Laughed At His Mock Teasing, And Ran When He Chased Her In Jest. Catching Up To Her, She Turned And Softly Put Her Arms Around His Neck And Kissed Him Gently On The Lips.
              He Turned Back Towards The Clifftop Path. Feeling He Was Being Watched, And To His Utter Disbelief He Saw, The One And Only, Mrs Delia Murphy. Who Was Better Known As The Local Town Gossip. Standing And Watching Them. With Her Long Three Quarter Way Coat, And Large Handbag, Dangling From Her  Arm. A Small Hat Upon Her Head. She Had Never Married, And Had Taken Her Bitterness About That Situation Out On The World, On The Village By Spreading Scandal And Rumour. Overly Exaggerating Half Truths , About Anyone She Chose Too In The Village.
                                She Very Much Fitted The Image Of A Bitter, Aging Spinster. With A Large Physical Frame, Hair Always Tied Tightly In A Bun, In An Angry Manner. A Plain, Always Stern Face, And Less Than Pleasant Demeanour. She Eyed The Scene Of  Thomas And The Young Girl, And Her Mouth Dropped Open In Shock, Consternation, And Some Envy. But She Also Smiled, Because She Certainly Had Some Scandal To Spread In The Village Now. She Hurried Along The Clifftop Walk Towards The Village.

‘Mrs Murphy’, Thomas Called After Her, Releasing Sinead’s Arms From Around His Neck, As He Followed In The Footsteps Of Mrs Murphy’s.
‘i It’s Not What It Looks Like’, He Pleaded.

She Have Turned To Face Him,

‘Get Away From Me Guard Thomas Brennan, I Know What I Saw, And Soon Everybody Else Will Too…..’

Her Face A Picture Of Triumph, Joy, But Also Envy, As She Again Hurried Along The Path Towards The Village, With Her Self Righteous, Indigent Walk. He Knew It Was Pointless To Reason And Argue With Her. He Returned To Sinead Where She Stood By The Cliff Top Edge.

‘Now Do You See What You’ve Done’, He Voice Raised, And Face Reddened. ’You Know We Have To Hide Away From People. You Know Who That Was ?’

.‘Yes, I Know’. What Can We Do ?’

‘I Don’t Know What We Can Do, But We Have To Stop Seeing Each Other, For One. You Will Just Have To Find Someone Your Own Age, We Cannot Carry Any More’.

With That Sinead’s Face Reddened, And She Hung Her Head. Thomas Reached Out To Touch Her Hand, But She Pulled Away. He Reached Out Again, Again She Pulled Away And Ran. Her Tears Blinding Her View.

‘Wait’,

The More He Moved After Her, The Faster She Ran, In A Disoriented Manner. He Watched, As If In Slow Motion, As She Got To The Cliff Top Edge. He Looked At The Clear Blue Sky, And Asked God For Help. God Didn’t Answer. He Watched Her Eyes Widen, And Her Lips Parted To Scream, But No Sound Came Out. He watched in the silence, As She Moved Forward Into The Clear Blue Sky. He Ran To The Cliff Top Edge, But It Was Too Late. He Didn’t Want To Look, But Forced Himself. A Quick Glance At Her Broken Body, Lying Bent And Misshapen On The Rocks Below.

       As He Lay Prostrate On The Floor In Front Of The Bishop, Again He Thought Of Her. She Would It Seems Never Ever Be Far From His Mind And Soul……

 

 

 

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Lust…..

via Daily Prompt: Lust

He had always lusted after her. Ever since that first day he saw her her. There was just something about her. She was too young then, it would have being unacceptable, even to him. But throughout the years, he watched her slowly blossom into the young beautiful girl, he knew that she was, and the beautiful woman she would one day turn out to be. Perhaps, one day become his wife, he allowed himself to fantasise at times . He struggled with his anger, and jealousy as he watched from afar, how the other young boys of her own age had also noticed and appreciated her striking looks, and that certain aura. But now she blossoming into a young woman, well a young girl at least.
Alone with her in the classroom. His offer of extra tuition was welcomed. She was struggling with the more complex mathematical formulas and equations. He sat close to her, studying her face, her clear skin, her brown clean hair, as she studied the text. Her innocent, questioning brown eyes. Her easy engaging laughter. The sounds of the other school children on the summer lit playing field, echoing into the empty classroom. He pushed his leg against her bare leg. She did not pull away. His breathing rate increased. Years of longing, of yearning. Desires held for so long, and dearly, possibly about to come to fruition. He began to perspire slightly, and loosened his tie, and removed his jacket. She continued to study the text, and question him, when she was puzzled. He was in love with the softness of her voice, with her physicality, her innocence, her spirit, her soul, even though he did not know her. He was in love with her.

He moved even closer as she studied the text, and placed his hand on the back of her chair, then placed his hands between her shoulder blades, to see her response, and enjoyed the softness of her young , tender body. He moved his face closer to hers. So much so, they were nearly touching. She did not pull away. She turned to face him. He could feel and taste her sweet breath upon his face, and moved his face closer still towards her inviting young lips, eager to touch, to taste, to meet. Those innocent wide brown eyes, looked into his, offering herself to him. He took her face in her hands and moved his lips closer to hers. She waited…

‘Mr Williams, in God’s name, what do you think you are doing ? ‘

He had never heard her enter the room, so engrossed was he, with the possible realization of his long held desires. He immediately released his hold of his young charge, and moved away from her. He began to stutter, and sooth his hair, and clothing. His face flushed with embarrassment and desire.
‘Well, she demanded’, waiting for an answer, some explanation. Her face contorted in an expression of exasperation and bewilderment. But there was no explaining this.

He was quiet for a few moments, while he gathered his thoughts. Why lie he concluded. Be honest, be true, was his choice. ‘What does it look like,  I am at last giving free reign to my love, our love. Free of the shackles of conformity, free of other people’s views of what is right or wrong ‘, His voice becoming stronger as he spoke, determined not to be denied, what he believed to be his right. ‘Free from the views of the narrow minded people, who don’t know, or will ever know what true love is’.

‘Mr Williams, this can never be, not now, not ever ‘. Her voice stern, but slow, as if she was explaining to a child. ‘Millie is only thirteen years old, and you’re a middle aged man. This can never be’.
‘You know nothing’, he shot back. ‘What are you but an aging spinster, who knows nothing of intimacy, of true love’. He moved towards her, as she retreated from his angry movements. Millie watched wide eyed and quietly from the corner of the room. Her breathing rapid, and strained. He continued to  move towards the Headmistress. She could sense his volcanic like anger, being unleashed. She shuddered at the volume and mence of his voice, which filled the classroom. His face red, the veins either side of his forehead throbbing. His movements wild and uncontrolled. As soon as he was close enough to her, he pushed her with as much force as he could muster, her small frame no match for his strength and anger. She hit the classroom floor with much force, banging her head on the concrete. Her legs folded backwards in a grotesque manner. Her movements ceased.
In the silence that followed, his anger began to subside slightly, and he turned his attention once again towards Millie. In the corner of the room her face was taking on a shade of grey, and her lips very slightly tinged with a purple hue. Her breathing was labored and strained, and her eyes wide wide with fear and panic, as she struggled to breath.

‘Millie, do you have an inhaler ? , he demanded. Where is it, where is it ?’ He frantically searched her school desk, and in her school bag. But with no luck. He found her cute mobile phone, covered with stickers of cats, and some glitter. Very much the toy of a child, for that is what she was. He used her cute phone to call for an ambulance. He moved back toward Millie in the corner of the room, and sat beside her and held her. Rubbing her back gently, and pushing her now damp hair, back from her face, in the vain hope it would offer her some physical relief and comfort. He held her like this as he waited for the ambulance.
The sounds of  children’s laughter, from the sunlit playing fields, echoed in the silence of the classroom.