Sin of the Saints (Between Delusion and Sobriety Duet #2)

Chapter 36

Chapter Thirty-Six

Bellcolor

T he administrator stands at the altar and preaches with such passion that I pity those sitting in the first row for the shower they’re getting. His empty words don’t reach me, even when he asks all those present to pray for my soul and the souls of all the other patients.

Today’s mass is entirely dedicated to God’s love for all His children, even those condemned to damnation like us, and I roll my eyes so hard they’re on the verge of getting stuck at the back of my head.

Thoughts of the treatment won’t leave me alone, and I need an escape that isn’t destructive for once. I lower my head towards the book I’ve hidden in the back of the pew in front of me.

Dr. Abano didn’t just demand that I write, he also encouraged me to read. “If you feel alone, the books will be good company for you, they contain insights within them that you can apply to your reality. I hope you’ll find them between the words, just as I find truth between your words.” I have to admit that Dr. Abano was right.

The book’s worn due to countless readings, a sign that I can’t go wrong with it. I borrowed it from the small library a few days ago. The librarian, Ms. Lando, is a very strange woman, but she has good taste in books. She’s supposedly a God-fearing woman who follows the administrator’s strict rules, but in fact, when the library is empty she swaps out the New Testament for some provocative book or other. I caught her one evening while trying to choose a book for myself, and since then I’ve kept her secret hostage in exchange for her recommendations, and her ability to get books for me that haven’t passed the administrator’s meticulous standards.

This time I’ve got a book I’ve been waiting for months to read: Bram Stoker’s Dracula . I’ve read it countless times and I’m still drawn into the story every time, like it’s my first encounter with it. Books have that magic. Dracula becomes dust and is destroyed, but on rereading he comes back to life again and again. On the one hand, I take comfort in that. Maybe if I end this life of mine I can be resurrected and live a whole new life. On the other hand, the thought also terrifies me. If the terrible Dracula can be revived, could Libretto be as well?

I slam the book shut and look up. The administrator has noticed that my attention isn’t centered on him and he looks at me with flaring eyes. Spine-tingling silence lingers in the church, and I don’t dare move or breathe until the administrator finally looks away and signals the choir to start its weekly hymn.

I’m drawn to the harmony of angelic voices and the heavy bass sounds of the pipe organ, and tighten my grip on the book in my hands. The thought troubles me, and I see it as a warning sign for a future that might come to pass if I hand over the control I’ve fought so hard for to the administrator of all people. I turn my gaze to the statue of Jesus on the cross while all those present pray together: “We believe in one, holy, Catholic and Apostolic Church. We acknowledge one Baptism for the remission of sins, we look for the resurrection of the dead and the life of the world to come. Amen 1 .” And for the first time I mean every word of my prayer. I plead for the prayers of those around me to remain unfulfilled, because if they’re praying for resurrection and eternal life, Libretto will gain them as well.

“That was brief,” Valentina says to me as I enter our room, shoulders slumped. She’s once again proving to be a master of evading obligations – she managed to dodge mass again.

“What’d you do instead?” I ask curiously, but she doesn’t respond, just shrugs and gives me a devious smile.

I plummet onto her bed next to her, and gasp as I hit my forehead on a firm object. I rub the pained area, pull the blanket away and find that Valentina’s hiding her George.

“Of all times, you chose to do it during mass? Damn, there must be a welcome sign with your name on it in Hell.” She bursts into laughter in response, clutching her belly. I throw her pink vibrator at her and it only makes her laugh harder. “How’d you get out of mass anyway? No one showed up to drag you there by force?” I ask.

“Ellis showed up.” She wags her eyebrows naughtily. “I guess he decided he’d rather stay here and play with me than hear the administrator’s bullshit.”

My eyes widen. “You’re awful!”

“I never pretended to be anything else.” She opens the dresser drawer by her bed and conceals George as deeply as she can. Before she shuts the drawer, she peeks at me and says: “I can let you play if you’re into it, you seem a little pale, you could use a generous endorphin boost. Better that than the poison they force on us.”

“I’m fine, thanks.”

“Fantasizing about your angel again?” I hide my flushed face before she notices my shame. She laughs and throws her pillow at me. “You’re a minx, I love it. It took time for me to pop that wound-up cork you used to be.”

“It’s embarrassing,” I mumble between my fingers as I peek at her.

“Come on, of all your bullshit, you’d think his cock was God’s fit.” She bursts into laughter and I throw the pillow back at her.

“You’re not supposed to be reading what I’m writing! Damn it, that’s private!”

“You let the angel read them, what difference does it make?” I freeze as I realize that not only should she not be reading them, she mustn’t in any way discover what she looks like to my eyes. God knows how she’ll react. Fortunately, her amused reaction tells me she’s only read parts that aren’t about her.

“It just does,” I answer briefly, hoping she’ll put the story be.

“You can dodge the subject, sweetie, but I’ll tell you this much: if you’d let Dr. Abano really fuck you, you might get some joie-de-vivre in you. Some things only they can give us.”

“Like what?”

“Closeness, human warmth…” she chuckles. “I assume Daddy Dearest fucked me up good to have me develop my affinity for perverts his age…” She opens her mouth and makes a vomiting sound.

“You don’t have to do it, Valentina. You have my closeness.” I approach her, bumping my shoulder lightly against hers.

“I’m no victim, don’t turn me into one. I choose to do it because I get a lot more than I lose. I see how you look after that church brainwashing. I say no thanks.”

I can understand her, we’re all locked up here and she found her freedom between the bars. There’s no doubt she can take credit for that, even if I don’t agree with her way. I can’t help wondering whether I’ll manage to find my freedom too.

I take advantage of her moment of confession to share the news about recent events. “The administrator said he set up treatment for me…”

“What treatment?”

“ Efficient treatment,” I emphasize the word. “He seems determined to carry it out.”

Valentina’s back straightens and she hugs the pillow. “What the fuck does that mean?”

I shrug, and she looks down.

“Hey, maybe it’s not so bad after all. He sounds convinced it’ll work,” I cautiously say.

“You’re dumber than I thought,” she contorts her expression. “Look at the lifeless zombies sitting in the club all day. They’re not aware of anything happening around them, and they’re not qualified to return to their lives outside the hospital either. I think they got a taste of what the administrator’s planning for you. Even death is better than that.”

“But I couldn’t die, could I? That’s why I found myself here in the first place.”

“Then I’ll help you with that. I’ll suffocate you now with this pillow and you can kiss the world goodbye with a middle finger raised at everyone.” She holds the pillow out towards me, and I have no doubt she can do it. For some reason, that doesn’t scare me.

“Then it’s not suicide, Valentina, it’s murder. You’ll suffer the punishment and I can’t let that happen.” And how can I even explain to her what guilt would do to her?

“Then you’re fucked, sis.”

“That’s an excellent summary.”

She leans back next to me. “We’ll get them back,” she whispers close to my ear. “We’ll get revenge on our fucking fathers.”

I empty my lungs and look back at her. “Maybe it’s not even their fault. Maybe we were just born cursed. Just like our mothers.”

“You might be right, but if I’m destined to be cursed… I intend to take full advantage of that.”

“Aren’t you worried that God will punish you?” That always intrigued me. Valentina comes from an observant family too.

She laughs in response. “Let Him do what He wants, I’ve lived under His law for most of my life and I’m sick of it. The sin’s much more thrilling than the dull life He and His followers have to offer.”

“I guess that’s one way to look at it.”

“It’s the only way to look at it, Belle,” she grows serious. “Otherwise I’d be just like you. Should I flagellate myself just because I’m human like He created me? Besides, at least I’m not a hypocrite like my father. He steals and kills for a living, but as long as he obeys the church’s laws, he’s a damned saint as far as he’s concerned.”

“Yes…” I ponder her words and can’t help agreeing with her. “But Dr. Abano’s different.”

“Dr. Abano is blind,” she quickly replies. “His naiveté will lead to his downfall.”

I don’t dare contradict her, because if she knew what was happening during the silences in our sessions, she’d get the wrong idea and think she could use it to her advantage. Valentina has no conscience and always gets what she wants, one way or another. Dr. Abano might pay for that, and that’s not what I want. He himself is aware of the game she’s playing with him, and I absolutely refuse to find out if he’s enjoying it.

“I fantasized that he offered to smuggle me out of here,” I confess.

“But that didn’t really happen,” she answers.

I shrug. “It’s pointless either way. Even if it were realistic, where would I go?”

“True.” She rests her head on my shoulder. “We’re where we belong, in a Hell created just for us. But don’t worry, I’ve got your back.” Her hand finds mine and we tangle our fingers together.

Yes, today was a good day.

I open my eyes and feel Valentina at my side. Our fingers are still intertwined and I smile as I realize we fell asleep that way. I turn my gaze to her and see her blinking as she wakes up. Her confused look is replaced by anger, as she pulls her hand from me and gives me a glare full of disdain.

“Get your filthy hands off me, whore,” she hisses, sitting up at once. I hurriedly move to my bed, but she grabs my shirt and yanks me towards her. “Don’t you dare come near me again, understand?” she spits venomously, and I nod.

She gathers her shower kit, snatches a towel and slams the door, leaving me stunned. I look to the window and my heart sours as the sun almost sets.

Damn, maybe today wasn’t a good day after all.